Across Space and Time
by Nicor Warg-Fyrweorm
Summary: Many are the realities where Cybertronian exist, some really similar, some opposite or even defying comparison. These are some of them. Includes: G1, Beast Wars, Prime, AUs, SG, Crossovers, Beastformers, and who knows what else. Currently: Filling plotholes, Kittyformers, TFP meets SG, Beastformers and SG TFP style.
1. Code of Ghost

**Story:** Code of Ghost

**Chapter title:** Goodbye

**Continuity:** _Beast Wars_, begins at the end of episode 9 of season 2, _Code of Hero_

**Summary:** Once, a human writer said: 'Nothing can we call our own but death and that small model of the barren earth which serves as paste and cover to our bones.' And yet, when the time comes, there is neither for those who no longer live. So, what is a ghost to do?

**Warnings:** Written in an attempt to fill some of the plotholes in _Beast Wars_.

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><p>The pain is so intense he can't really feel it anymore, having turned into a buzz of sensation that overlaps to the point of numbness, something for which, regardless of the fact he'll never confess it, he's grateful.<p>

It's been a long day, a long month, a long _year_, but it seems it is finally coming to an end.

_His_ end.

He can't feel the servo clasped around one of his own, but he can still hold it back.

And listen.

"Well fought, my friend. You saved the valley. You saved the lives of those who live here, and of those who are still to come." Primal's voice is solemn and yet clearly saddened, and, taking a deep breath, he looks for the strength to answer.

"Then… there is nothing to regret…"

No, of course there is, and quite a lot at that, but that's not what they want to hear, that's not what they expect of him, least of all in his situation, so that's what he manages to get out.

For their sakes, because they have grown on him, despite theirs being only something temporary, a mere alliance to defeat Megatron and his rag-tag group of Predacons.

"Like I said… you're just a blasted slag-spouting saurian but… it's nice to know where you stand."

Agh, who is he trying to kid?

Regrets? Of course, many of them. Regretting becoming what he has to these Maximals?

_Never._

"Upwind of you for preference, Vermin." And Rattrap smiles softly, that much his failing vision manages to catch, and he knows his apology has been received… and accepted. "Tell my tale to those who ask." He finds himself adding, world dimming around him as his sensors slowly fill with static. "Tell it truly, the ill deeds along with the good… and let me be judged accordingly." Because Primus knows there are far more of the former than of the latter, yet, maybe, perhaps, could this be the situation where a right can atone for many wrongs? "The rest… is silence."

He feels his body shut down just after the last word is voiced, and feels grateful he managed such a simple task, even as his senses vanish like mist in the wind, his spark feeling free for what seems like the first time in his whole function, weightless as he leaves pain and regrets and everything that bound him to both Maximals and Predacons behind along his frame—

"He lived a warrior… and died a hero." The voice is far away, and he doesn't really recognize it anymore, but those are nice words, a nice concept— "Let his spark join the Matrix, the greatest of Cybertron." —and wouldn't it be good if it was him it was talking about?

But the world blurs and fades away and concepts are a useless hope for a disembodied spark such as he, so why worry now?

Peaceful, though not at peace, the being once known as Dinobot surrenders.

"And where do you think you're going?"

Optics open and brighten, audio sensors tune the wildlife and categorize the noise, legs tense in preparation for a fight—

And his whole frame freezes when his pedes find no ground under them, yet there's no gravity tugging him down.

The mech in front of him turns his sneer into a smug grin, and Dinobot snarls.

"I am dead, let me go!"

Starscream's smirk only sharpens in response.

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><p><strong>AN:<strong> Feel free to give your opinions, ideas, suggestions... This was supposed to be a one-shot, but I kind of think it's better as a full story, though I'm still struggling about how to manage _that_, which is why it's in this fic, along the rest of plot-bunnies that have been popping up but I haven't gotten around to finish writing. Updates will come (if at all) when enough for a next chapter is written.

The quote in the 'summary' is from Shakespeare's _Richard II_ (which made another plot bunny pop up, curse you Shakespeare *shakes fist*).


	2. Mirror Mirror

**Story:** Mirror Mirror

**Chapter title:** New Old Friends

**Continuity:** _Transformers: Prime_, after _Predacons Rising_

**Summary:** 'Your dead shall live; their bodies shall rise. You who dwell in the dust, awake and sing for joy! For your dew is a dew of light, and the earth will give birth to the dead.' Or so human literature said. However, when things become a bit too literal, how are the Autobots, plus Knockout, going to answer? And what if those dead weren't their own?

**Synopsis:** Because this specific Shattered Glass version wouldn't leave me alone, and I _had_ to find a way to mix it with the cannon 'verse.

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><p>For the first time in what feels like a really long while, Knockout wonders why he doesn't carry his Energon rod on him at all times.<p>

He would probably have a better way out of this than hiding behind some crates and ping the Autobots for help.

The Terrorcons were supposed to be gone, all of them! Silas was dead, there was nothing powering Breakdown's frame, and there _certainly_ shouldn't be any way for it to have managed to revive Dreadwing!

_This was supposed to be easy!_

The medic hunches a bit as he hears the sound of a heavy frame hitting the wall of the storage room.

He's there because a couple of Repair Bay's welders suddenly died, and he wanted them replaced in case Soundwave is in a really bad shape when they manage to drag him out of the Shadow Zone.

Which should be happening about now, if the lack of answers from the Autobots, all of them on the bridge as they wait for Ratchet to open the Ground Bridge, is telling.

And here the former Decepticon is, trapped in a storage room with two deactivated frames walking between him and the exit.

_Starscream, if I ever find you again, I'm going to cut your wings!_

"Breakdown?" The medic almost cries out at Dreadwing's voice, but manages to clap a servo over his mouth just in time. "What happened to you?"

That… isn't right.

Dreadwing sounds worried. Zombies don't usually talk, least of all sound anything but hungry. So why…

"What happened to me? What happened to _you_!" His partner—and oh, Primus, it _is_ him, that's _his_ voice—exclaims, worried and horrified, and loud pede-steps fill the room. "You've been downgraded!"

"Say what?" Knockout asks before he can stop himself, though, fortunately, he hasn't moved from his hiding spot.

If he's lucky, they won't have heard him.

"Show yourself!" Judging by Dreadwing's bellow, he's _not_ lucky.

"Stay still! Whatever pierced your chassis almost got your spark chamber!"

That… sounds just like Breakdown, like those times when it was just the two of them, before Megatron came to Earth and Starscream called them back.

Slowly, he peaks over the crate he's hiding behind.

And finds himself staring straight into the enormous Seeker's red optics.

With a surprised squeak, he ducks down almost instantly.

How did he know he was _there_?

"Knockout? Is that you?" His partner—is he?—calls, and, _Primus_, the hope in his voice…

Strengthening with a thought, he stands up and walks around the crate.

Hope and joy cross the injured mechs' faceplates—before confusion and wariness replace them.

They are a mess.

Breakdown's body is as damaged, as crudely put together, as when Silas first brought it in, optic patch missing and new welts marking where the mouth opened into that monstrous mockery of what once was his friend.

Dreadwing's body is much better, with the exception of the hole Megatron blasted through his chassis, a scarred and half burnt spark chamber showing at the top, something that _wasn't_ there when Knockout had the deactivated frame removed from his Repair Bay.

The spark chamber had been obliterated.

Someone has been experimenting with the frames in the storage room, and he has a suspicion about it _not_ being Shockwave.

After all, the other mech would have told Megatron if he could bring deactivated 'Cons back from the Well of All Sparks without the use of Dark Energon.

Plus, he would have done it in his laboratory.

"He's not Knockout." Dreadwing growls, sharp dactyls curling menacingly, but one arm around Breakdown's shoulders to keep standing. "He's got to be an Autobot trick."

"What in the Pit are you talking about? I _am_ Knockout. _You_ can't be Dreadwing or Breakdown, you're both deactivated!" He shouts back, feeling his processor reeling. "_You_ have to be the trick! Know what? I'm going to ignore you, so go away!"

The two Terrorcons, or whatever they are, exchange startled looks and, with new hope, Breakdown turns to the red medic again, a smile so familiar on his faceplate that the sports car almost takes a step away.

He is _not_ his partner. He _can't be_.

If only he could convince himself…

"Well, you sound awfully like him. But you'll have to prove you _are_ him. So, tell me something only Knockout would know about."

The medic's mouth falls open in astonishment.

"Are you fragging _serious_?! _I_ should be the one saying that! You can't just stand up and walk around as if you were active anymore!"

::_Knockout, come in. We have a… situation in the bridge._:: He jumps at the sudden voice in his helm, the two… _ghosts_ startling almost as badly.

And then, he recognizes it as a comm call from Ultra Magnus.

"_You_ have a situation in the bridge? _I_ have a situation in the storage room!" He shouts back, pressing a couple of dactyls against the side of his helm. "I have two deactivated 'Cons walking around and thinking they're active again!"

::_Then, it seems we have the same problem._:: He freezes at that, looking at the curious Breakdown and the confused Dreadwing. ::_Only, one of those that should be deactivated is an Autobot. Plus a stasis-locked Soundwave._::

"So you got him back after all." Is the only thing he can answer, not looking away from the other two mechs. "Who did you get?"

Silence.

::_Cliffjumper, Skyquake and Hardshell._::

"Huh. I have Breakdown and Dreadwing." He says back, a thought quickly making itself known. "How are they? Because, from what I know, they were a bit roughened up. And the two with me look like when they deactivated."

::_They are in need of medical attention. I'll send Bulkhead to help you bring those with you to the Repair Bay._::

"I think they can walk, but it'll make me feel better, at least."

::_They are operative?_::

"Sure. Yours aren't?"

"Who is he talking with?" Dreadwing finally asks Breakdown, scowling, and the other shakes his helm.

"No idea. Who are you talking with?"

::_No, they are in stasis lock. Their damage is too severe. Bring them, then. We'll meet there._:: And the comm cuts.

Silence.

"So? Who are you talking with?" The Seeker demands with a small glare, and Knockout startles out of his shocked state.

"Repair Bay. Now."

To his surprise, they start to walk to the door the instant those words are out of his mouth.

He points them in the right direction, ignoring their questions about their whereabouts, until they enter the Repair Bay.

Upon which, they cry out and step away.

The Autobots, already inside, whirl around at the sound.

Dreadwing loses it as soon as he sees the battered frame of Skyquake on a table, an arm missing.

"_Brother_!"

Fortunately, Breakdown is quick enough to grab him and push him back.

Only to shoot at Ratchet, who was finishing putting an Energon drip on Soundwave, resting on another berth.

"Get away from him, you madmech!" His partner shouts, the Medic having missed the shot almost by miracle, hammer forming on his servo as he stands in front of Dreadwing.

The Autobots ready their weapons, Bulkhead charging towards the battered blue Wrecker—

But Knockout can see the trembling in his partner's frame, the fear in his only remaining optic—

So he jumps between them with arms open wide, and hopes to Primus his finish won't be too damaged after this crazy stunt.

"Wait!"

Bulkhead, thanks the All Spark, manages to stop just in time.

"Knockout, what are you doing? He shot Ratchet!"

"Stand down, Bulkhead." Ultra Magnus orders, standing tall and with no weapon visible, other than his hook-like servo.

"_Magnus_?" The two 'Cons at his back squeak in surprise, but Knockout doesn't move.

"An explanation, doctor?" The Autobot leader asks of him instead, and he crosses his arms against his chassis with a scowl.

"Yes, that's exactly what was missing. Sir." And, after the sarcastic words, he turns around to the confused and—to his bewilderment—terrified supposedly deactivated Decepticons. "I don't know if you're the real you, but whatever. The war is over. The Autobots won, and now are restoring Cybertron, and I'm helping them."

The betrayal that flashes in their optics is enough to make him wince, something that is overlooked as Dreadwing almost jumps towards Magnus.

Almost, because an equally enraged Breakdown holds him back.

"They reprogrammed him! Those accursed Autobots reprogrammed him, Breakdown! And they're going to do the same with my brother!" The Seeker roars, the Grounder barely keeping him in his place as he tries to get out of his grip.

"Calm down! We need to get out and regroup!" Breakdown shouts back, trying to push the Flier out of the still open doors.

"Regroup with _whom_?!"

"_Enough_! Mute it and stay still for a breem!" The red medic finally screams, his processor trying to work so fast that it's starting to ache.

The two 'Cons freeze in place, their optics on him.

It takes some nanokliks for Knockout to realize they've obeyed.

"Huh… alright. Alright. First of all, _no one_ has reprogrammed me. I joined the Autobots of my own will."

"I knew it was all a trick." Dreadwing growls, but he's almost slumping against Breakdown, Energon seeping from the hole in his chassis. "He's not our Knockout."

"I _am_ Knockout! _You_ are the ones who are not who you should be!"

The Seeker starts to growl—and the blue Grounder shakes him before pointing at something in the room.

Confused, the medic turns to look, finding only an even more lost Smokescreen looking around.

"What?" The Doorwinger asks, a bit nervous and annoyed.

"Smokescreen." Dreadwing whispers, slumping even more on Breakdown's hold. "He's _active_."

"Wha—of course I am!" The young scout exclaims, shushing when Ultra Magnus gestures for him to stay quiet.

"Yes, and Bulkhead's too. Remember what Shockwave said about the walls?" Breakdown asks softly, and the Seeker's look turns from surprised to amazed.

"That there are a lot of universes connected between themselves, and it will come a day when the wall is more in one universe than in ours, and we'd be able to get through it." The Flier answers dutifully, starting at the confused and disbelieving mechs in the Repair Bay. "My optics aren't damaged, are they? You really are painted blue." He finishes, looking down at the softly smiling 'Con.

"Looks like it. And he's really red and buffed. Now, _that_ is a sight I'd never thought I'd set optics on." Breakdown answers with a small hint of humor, helping the Seeker to an empty berth. "So, sit down and listen to the doctor."

"Even if he's not our doctor?" The red former Decepticon finds himself scrutinized by his partner and the Flier's optics, and he can't do more than stare back.

"He may not be our Knockout, but he _is_ Knockout." Breakdown answers before giving the medic a small smile.

"You could say the same about the Autobots, too." Dreadwing grumbles, glaring at the 'Bots. "Though, they've been pretty quiet so far."

"Do you really believe you're in a different universe?" Wheeljack butts in, as stunned as the rest of them.

"Are you a level-processored, meticulous, calm and respectful mech that pilots a small ship called the _WheelHammer_?" The Seeker deadpans, refusing to lie down even when the scarred blue Grounder tries to push him.

"Pit, no. And the ship is the Jack_Hammer_." The white Autobot answers with a snort, nodding. "I see your point."

"So, are they…" Breakdown asks softly, gesturing to the rest of mechs on the berths.

Knockout grabs some tools and approaches his not-partner, giving Dreadwing a soft push and a glare.

The Seeker immediately lies down with a sheepish look.

"If we follow the logic that the deactivated are the ones who have come from another universe, then the Autobot, the Insecticon and Skyquake are of yours. Soundwave… no idea." He answers, starting to seal ruptured lines while, without a word, Breakdown begins to take off the damaged plates to allow access to the worst damage.

"What about—ow!—Megatron, Starscream, Shockwave and Airachnid?" The Seeker asks, Ratchet trying to shoo the rest of Autobots out the Repair Bay.

"Airachnid, I hope, is deactivated. Megatron went his way, and Herr Komandant and Shockwave just vanished." He answers calmly, grimacing and, with a start, finding the tool he was reaching for already on his servo.

A quick look up makes his optics find Breakdown's remaining one, and he can't help but beam.

Frag_,_ he's _missed_ his partner.

"Why do you hope Airachnid's deactivated?"

"Maybe because she's a monster that only functions to cause pain?"

Dreadwing tenses, but doesn't sit up, and Breakdown whirls around with his shoulder cannon already half-charged.

Arcee transforms her servos and lowers into a ready stance, scowl firm on her faceplate, but Bumblebee manages to grab her arm before she can do anything drastic.

"That's called self description." The blue Grounder spits with anger bordering on hate, and the Seeker growls in agreement.

"You take that back, Two Wheeler scum! Airachnid's one of the best Femmes to ever activate!"

"Hey, hey!" Knockout cuts in before things can get out of servo, standing between the irate and stunned Autobot and the two enraged 'Cons. "Not the same here than wherever you come from, remember?"

Slower than when the revelation first happened, the injured mechs calm down.

"Sure sounds a lot like it, though." Dreadwing mutters lowly, darkly, and the medic looks to his partner for help.

Breakdown lets out a tired ex-vent before, tentatively, turning his back on the Femme to keep working on the other 'Con.

"I'm going to put you in stasis."

"But—"

"Dreadwing, I was just warning you." The Seeker glares at the Autobots in the room but, despite his words, the Grounder doesn't reach for the anesthetic. "Tell me something." Slowly, he turns around to look at the Femme coolly, though the fear in his frame is too obvious to Knockout. "The Arcee of our universe would force prisoners to fight against her for revenge on her deactivated partner. She would toy with them, giving them the keys to their restraints, and the choice to battle her, or to let her torture them. She would give them this false hope that maybe, if they defeated her, they could escape. She would even let them hit her once, maybe twice. And then she would smile, and she would rip them apart. Tell me, _Arcee_. Would _you_?"

The Two Wheeler doesn't answer, looking stunned—but there's a hint of dread and realization in her optics.

And Knockout finds himself remembering that conversation with Starscream after the Flier rejoined the Decepticons, and how the Seeker managed to get away from the Autobots when…

"She already did." He hears himself answering, taking a step closer to the berth as the two injured mechs give him a scared look. "Frag it all, she almost _did it_."

"I didn't! I'm not some Airachnid!" She scowls, and the two 'Cons not their own bristle.

"Of course you're not. Airachnid has always been the better Femme." Breakdown growls.

And then, in a show of confidence Knockout knows it's just a very big bluff, he turns his back on them to keep working on Dreadwing.

Ratchet finally manages to get his fellow Autobots out of the Repair Bay.

"So, in this universe of yours, we are the bad guys?" The Medic asks, cautiously approaching Cliffjumper's almost ripped in half frame.

"The Autobots we know… they wanted to get rid of the Senate and all it represented, and then rebuild Cybertron from its ashes as they wanted it." Breakdown answers softly, finally reaching for the anesthetic.

"When I online, will I be back in my frame?" Dreadwing asks, voice small and hopeful and dreading, and Knockout can only see a newspark on the berth.

"I'll do my best." His partner answers and, after receiving a nod, injects the anesthetic.

When the Seeker's systems slow into stasis, the red medic has to grab the bigger Grounder before he ends on the floor.

"Whoa, take it easy, partner! Energon levels?" He asks, remembering the reason Silas became a Terrorcon, and wincing at the nod from the Wrecker. "Frag it, I should have known. Here, sit down." He helps the battered blue mech to a wall, slowly lowering him to rest against it on the ground.

When he turns around, Ratchet is approaching with a cube of Low Grade, worried but wary.

Knockout gives him a halfhearted small smirk as he grabs the cube and offers it to his not-partner.

"Here." But the mech doesn't take it, analyzing it instead with confusion. "It's not spiced or anything."

"It's blue." Both medics startle at that, exchanging a look before turning to the dark blue glistering cube. "In our universe, common Energon is red."

"In this, Red Energon enhances speed." The Autobot answers with a calm the red mech hasn't recovered yet.

"That's what blue does in our universe." Breakdown adds with a hint of amusement, finally taking the cube and sipping from it. "Well, as long as it isn't green or purple, no problem."

"Green? As in Tox-En?"

"Tox-En is purple. Green is Dark Energon."

Silence.

"Looks like ours are _opposite_ universes." Ratchet mutters, slightly stunned, before returning to Cliffjumper. "I think I'm going to restrain him to the berth."

"That'd be wise." Breakdown snickers before trying to get up, but Knockout's servo on his shoulder plate stops him.

"You're not going to be able to modify their frames until they and _you_ are repaired. Let me take care of this." The Wrecker analyzes his seriousness, his determination—and smiles with hope, happiness and relief.

After receiving a nod from his partner, the red medic gets up and back to work on a frame that should be, for all purposes, deactivated.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Don't know where I'm really going with this, I just know I want to introduce some more SG mechs, but, after that, no idea. Requests?

The quote in the summary is from the _Bible._

**Starfire201:** As you pointed out, there was no plothole in _Code of Hero_ (a favorite of mine too), but to fix those that pop up further on, I needed to start there. I'm glad the idea caught your attention, because I don't think there would be much 'resting in peace' with Starscream around XP


	3. Jasper

**Story:** Jasper

**Chapter title:** Arrival

**Continuity:** _Transformers: Prime_ AU in which the Cybertronian are cats (TFP Kittyformers)

**Summary:** When the McKenzie moved away, Rafael didn't think having new neighbors could be such a big change. But, well, that's what happens when said new neighbor brings along her five cats. And Miko complained that Jasper wasn't 'the entertainment capital of the world' her brochure had promised...

**Synopsis:** Written because of a drawing of the Decepticons as cats that I can't find anywhere now, plus Akahito's Catformers (akahlt0 . tumblr (.com)) and a bizarre dream (I know I will get to writing the scenes in my dream someday... though maybe not soon...).

* * *

><p>What first catches Rafael's attention is the truck.<p>

The big truck with the name of the moving company it belongs to clearly seen on its side.

The second thing is the old lady getting out of the passenger's side and hurrying to the back, impatiently waiting for the driver and another of the employees to get out of the cab.

Curious, the boy stands up from the porch and goes to the truck.

"Hello!" He greets happily when he gets to the woman's side, who turns around and smiles tenderly at him while the two men fumble with the lock. "I'm Rafael Esquivel, I live two houses down the street. Did you buy the McKenzie's old house?"

"Why, yes, young man. I'm Nemesis Devon, but you can just call me Nanny." She answers, voice cracking due to her age but warm nevertheless.

"Are you alone?" He can't help but ask, frowning as he looks at the house.

True, it may not be excessively big, but if it's just the old lady living in it, it can become lonely.

Fortunately, Nanny chuckles.

"My husband passed away almost two months ago, and my children are all grown up and have their own families. But I won't be _completely_ alone." She answers, turning to the truck as the men finally open the doors.

Rafael has to do a double take at the first thing he sees.

Because, unless he's mistaken, there, just at the front, are five pet carriers.

Five _occupied_ pet carriers.

"Ah, my poor boys. It's alright, it's over. We're home now." The old lady croons, approaching them, and their occupants stir.

"Kitties!" The boy exclaims with a wide smile when he sees the long-haired ginger cat rub against the bars of the carrier as the woman rests her fingers on it.

"Yes, my dear. They've been keeping me company ever since my Harry died, and I couldn't leave them behind." Nanny answers, just before a loud yowl makes them look to where one of the company's employees is taking a carrier out of the truck. "Put him down!" She shouts with enough strength that the man startles, taking the cage from him even though her arms tremble from its weight. "Ah, my boy, you're too heavy for an old woman like me…"

"Let me help." Rafael calls as he grabs the carrier opposites where the old lady is supporting it, seeing a tan and gray-blue big shape huddling against the back.

"I'm sorry, dear, but I'm afraid I can't let you do that. My poor boy is terrified of strangers and—" A soft yet high-pitched 'meep' cuts her words, and both look down at the same time.

The black-stripped yellowish kitten at Raf's feet meeps again as it stands on its back legs, straining to see inside the carrier, and the boy feels the cat in it move until it can stare at the tiger-like young one through the bars.

"What a curious sound." Nanny whispers, and Rafael smiles a bit sadly at that.

"The woman at the pound said he and his brothers were left at the door on a rainy night, and that he was the only one that survived the sickness, though his throat was irreparably hurt."

"Poor sweet darling…"

"Hello Raf, Ma'am." Both look up at that, and the boy beams when his eyes meet the teenager's. "I'm Jack Darby, from the next house. Do you need help?"

"Oh, lucky me! I chose the neighborhood with all the polite young men." Nanny chuckles, allowing Rafael to take the cage when it becomes clear that its occupant won't panic anymore. "I could use the help, certainly." She adds, looking at the truck the employees are emptying, carrying boxes inside the house.

The rest of carriers, to the kid's amusement, have been pushed to the side, none of the two men willing to anger the lady by manhandling the cats.

"This one is a big boy, and I'm afraid I'm not strong enough to carry him." She adds, patting one of the cages. "Though keep your fingers away from the bars, they're all grumpy and tired from the journey."

Jack nods, gets to Nanny's side, and almost jumps away when a low and threatening growl sounds from inside the carrier, his eyes widening as he looks at the cat in it.

"He _is_ a big one." He lets out without thought, carefully grabbing the cage as the old lady takes the one with the ginger, still rubbing against the bars.

Curious, Raf looks into Jack's carrier, and finds himself gulping at the large beast in it, almost red coppery eyes seemingly glaring at him while big pointed teeth are bared as it growls, instead of hiss.

"And he _is_ cranky." He adds with a nervous chuckle, and Nanny laughs softly as he guides them to the porch.

Instead of entering, though, she leaves the carrier to one side, so as to not be in the way of the men carrying boxes, and rubs the curious tiger-like kitten's head when he hurries to her side, the ginger cat looking at the smaller one with half-lidded dark brown eyes.

"We've had a long journey, and I've been the only one allowed to stretch my legs. But it's almost over." She explains, stepping back to let Rafael and Jack deposit their cargos next to the one already on the floor.

The boy quickly picks the kitten up when it moves to the carriers, not wanting to neither upset its occupants nor get the young feline mauled by the monster Jack has been carrying.

"Don't worry, dear. Once they've had a chance to move around a bit, they'll love to meet the little one." Nanny answers as they walk back to the truck.

"I have some cats too, and Miko, the exchange student next door, brought hers from Japan. So far, they all get along." Jack adds, staring warily at the two remaining carriers.

"Oh, so many new friends for my boys… I'm sure they will all get by just fine." The old lady chuckles, pushing one of the cages towards the teenager. "Don't worry, this one won't try to hurt you."

Embarrassed, the older boy takes a look at the dark cat curled against the back before grabbing the carrier.

"I can get the other, Nanny." Rafael quickly says as the woman takes the remaining one, but she just waves his worry away.

"No need, my dear. The real trouble were those two, the rest are all quite light." She reassures him as they walk back to the porch, where a small bluish gray cat is sitting in front of the carriers already there.

"Oh, I can't believe it!" Jack exclaims, and the free cat turns to look at them with blue eyes, a ring of brown around the pupil, before it runs to rub against the teenager's legs. "How did you get out? All windows were closed!" He adds in disbelief, carefully stepping around the purring cat.

"Is this one of your kittens?" Nanny asks, laughing softly, as she puts the carrier next to the others.

"Yes, and she's an expert when it comes to getting out of the house. I don't know how she does it, but she does."

"A bit small, isn't she?"

"She's a runt. But I wouldn't change her for anything." The teenager answers with a small smile, leaving the cage and picking up the still purring cat, who quickly starts to rub her head under his chin.

"I'm so happy to hear that… I would invite you both to come inside and have some cookies, but I'm afraid I have nothing to offer until I get to the market."

"You don't have to give us anything, Nanny. I'm happy I could help." Jack nods in agreement with Rafael's words, and the old lady gives them both a warm smile.

"What good luck, to find such lovely boys. Regardless, come along another day, I'll love to have some company. And I'm sure my boys would love to properly meet our new neighbors."

"Hey Jack, Raf!" A female's voice calls, and they all turn to see an Asian girl approach down the street, pink highlights on her black hair. "Is that the new neighbor? What are all those cages?"

"Miko, be more polite, will you?" Jack reprimands tiredly, scratching his cat under her chin, while Rafael's observes in silence from his arms.

"Yeah, yeah. Hi there, I'm Miko Nakadai, I'm an exchange student from Japan and—kittens!" She squeals, kneeling to watch the felines still in the cages. "They're so _cute_!"

The old woman chuckles.

"I'm glad you like them, dear. I'm Nanny Devon, and I'm just moving in. Jack has told me you took your own pet with you when you came here, am I right?"

"Sure did! I couldn't go live adventures without my partner!" The teenage girl answers with a big smile, and the old lady chuckles.

"Then feel free to come by whenever you want, too. I'm sure they will all get along."

"Think we could convince Mister Trion to let his cats come too?" She asks the boys, who smile in answer.

"Mister Trion lives across the street. He's a retired teacher with a long and complicated Greek surname, so he tells everyone to just call him Trion."

"And he has _cop cats_." Miko adds with an almost creepy smile, getting to her feet excitedly. "I swear he's training them to work with the police or something."

"They're just really well behaved." Rafael answers with a chuckle and an eye roll, and Nanny laughs softly.

"I would certainly enjoy meeting this Mister Trion. How about I invite you all tomorrow afternoon for some cake? Tell him and your families, too. I would love to have you all over, including the little ones." She tells them, reaching to rub the kitten's head, who purrs loudly and nudges her fingers.

"Oh, yeah!"

"Sure thing, Nanny."

"I'll ask my parents."

And, with a warm smile from the old lady, the teenagers go back home, talking excitedly among themselves.

* * *

><p>New York, the city that never sleeps.<p>

And yet, despite all the bright lights, it's a dark place.

Black alleyways, faceless strangers filling the streets, metal monsters rushing everywhere, large and feral rats scurrying around corners, smelly trash cans acting as traps and mercy, bearing food and those ready to fight for it, sometimes to the death.

No, New York is not something worth missing.

Not before they met _her_.

She who left her window open, who shared her untainted food and clear water, who offered warmth and cleanliness and comforting fingers and asked only for their stay in return.

And so, they staid.

She gave them a safe haven, a light amidst the decrepit darkness of noisy and ever dangerous New York.

They would have been fools to refuse it.

They learned the new rules, and happily followed them.

They met each other, and learned to tolerate to keep their safe place.

And, in time, they became more than acquaintances and reluctant housemates.

By the time they left New York, each would have gladly fought the darkness for the others.

But the new enemy wasn't one they could fight.

They were put in the Box to Move, and then in a large dark room full of other boxes.

And the room _moved_.

The journey was long and tedious, and despite the clean water each had in their Boxes, they all thirsted for something more.

Light.

And contact.

The Boxes were close enough they could touch paws from between the bars, but such a small thing wasn't enough, not after the safe haven in New York.

And then, light.

And her.

And new others, both of the large two-legged ones and of those like them.

But that didn't matter now.

They had a new home, and they needed to map it first.

Only once it was made safe would they worry about the other cats, and how to deal with them.

Permanently.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> No names given (yet), but can you guess who is who? (No points given for Nanny, since she kind of introduced herself already...)

Also, I'll be really grateful if anyone happens to find the drawing of the Decepticon Catformers I mentioned in the AN at the top. There's Knockout, Breakdown, Megatron, Soundwave and Starscream in it, and it looks so realistic that I wouldn't be surprised if I crossed one such cat walking down the street (I would probably drag the cat home with me, truth be told). Also, I remember the artist mentioned that they all belonged to an old lady called Nemesis (which is why my brain ended up with Nanny).


	4. More than Meets the Eye

**Story:** More than Meets the Eye

**Chapter title:** Robots in Disguise

**Continuity:** _G1_ AU Beastformers_  
><em>

**Summary:** Many millions of years ago, on the planet Cybertron, life existed. But not as we know it. Intelligent robots that could think and feel inhabited the cities, mechanical beings able to transform. But then, a war began, and it has come to Earth. What are humans to do in this conflict among titans? "Don't you think you're exaggerating? They're just cute tiny puppies!"

**Warnings:** To tell the truth, I don't remember where this one came from. I guess from seeing other Beastformers and Autocats/Autodogs/Decepticats/Deceptidogs, and deciding to give it a try. In this AU, the Cybertronian are a lot smaller (average size being to stand up to Spike's stomach) and thus their alt modes ended being organic creatures.

* * *

><p>It was all school's fault.<p>

_A Day in your Parent's Workplace_ wasn't supposed to end with him surrounded by wild beasts, unless his father worked in a zoo.

Which he _didn't_.

William 'Sparkplug' Witwicky worked in an oil refinery in the Nevada desert.

There were supposed to be hawks and eagles and coyotes around, sure, but this situation…

Huddled with his father behind a machine he doesn't recognize, Spike can't help but look once more at the bizarre spectacle going on around him.

His eyes narrow when he sees the owl.

It is all the owl's fault.

The tiny, fluff-ball of a yellow-eyed owl, that had been perched on the fence studying the refinery.

He doubts it's really an owl.

_"__Hey, what's that?"_

_"__What's what?"_

_"__There, on the fence. Is that an owl?"_

_"__If it is, it's the tiniest owl I've ever seen!"_

_"__What do you think it's doing?"_

_"__Looking for mice or bugs… Or perhaps waiting for the best chance to steal our oil!"_

His father had been joking, but the owl had turned to them with what looked like surprise.

And shrieked.

A second later, Spike had been scrambling away from the eagles that had flown inside like bullets, followed by a coyote and a _tiger_.

A gunmetal gray tiger with the strangest markings on head and chest he has ever seen.

And red eyes.

The same shade of red of the coyote's and eagles' eyes.

The teenager can barely believe his eyes with the situation being as it is, but it's only when the creatures _transform_ that he decides this is all a dream.

A really weird and bizarre dream, from which his father will wake him up in an instant so that he can get ready to accompany him to the refinery.

So he waits as the gray-blue-reddish former coyote robot opens its white chest to let two weasels jump out.

And waits as the eagles land and change into robots with yellow talon-like feet and half of their wings proudly displayed on their backs, albeit upside-down.

And keeps waiting as the black-stripped gray robot points to the extraction drill—or what he thinks is the extraction drill—and the gray-white eagle-robot with the red front lifts a bluish-gray arm to shoot the machine with the barrel attached to its upper arm.

And is still waiting when they start filling the sparkling colorless cubes the coyote-robot extracts from its chest with oil from the stopped drill, which turns pink and sparkly once inside them.

And lets out a yelp when he pinches his arm, tired of waiting to wake up, and it _hurts_.

He isn't dreaming.

"Well, well, well. What do we have here?"

Which means they're in _deep_ trouble when the weasels, one bluish gray and the other a really dark brownish red, approach with their snouts twisted into sharp-toothed devious smirks.

Despite being small, Spike fears them, knowing well from his Biology classes that they're able to kill animals bigger than themselves, not taking into account that these two are, despite the fur, _robots_.

Oh, and the tiger-robot is looking at them too, its lips pulling up into a dangerous smirk, showing the big canines and the rest of really sharp teeth, not those slightly blunt and yellowed ones that the real wild animals have.

A white and gray mockingbird with black and yellow markings flies inside, chirping loudly, and the black-stripped robot whirls around with a roar, quickly transforming back into a tiger.

Spike hears barking and, the next instant, a pack of really different dogs barge into the refinery.

A big blue-gray Great Dane with red back and front legs throws itself to the enormous gray feline, standing on its back legs when the tiger does so and biting back ferociously.

And then, the teenager sees what looks like a big red Pit Bull transforming to battle the white-gray eagle robot.

Without a second thought, he kicks away the distracted weasels, grabs his father's hand, and runs away.

Or tries to.

A stray shot of energy slams into the fence, and the next thing he knows is that they are trapped under it like a bird in a net.

Fortunately, the animal-robots are busy enough battling each other to pay attention to the squirming humans well out of their way.

Until he sees the eagles fly away, carrying compressed sparkling cubes in their talons, followed by the coyote and the tiger.

Only, the gunmetal gray beast decides to leave them a present, so it opens its jaws, revealing its purple-shining throat, and _shoots_ a couple of energy balls that wreck havoc on the buildings and set the oil on fire.

When the dogs start to run away, the Witwicky throw caution to the wind and start shouting for help.

The Great Dane stops, turns to them, and barks to a big black dog with rust red and white markings.

Both the black dog and another big and hairy grayish one answer with yips before rushing to the refinery, while the enormous blue-gray and red animal approaches them.

It takes a look at the fence and, lowering its head, _bites_ through the metal.

When a small hole has been made, it steps back, transforms into a blue-gray robot with red arms and back, and widens the tear with his hands.

Both Witwicky rush out, seeing the fire growing bigger—

Spike can only yelp and grab the warm mass of short fur and strong muscle under him, trying not to fall off the smaller creature's back.

He ends up falling, anyway, but only when all movement has stopped.

When he finally looks up, he sees what looks like a short-haired Border Collie looking down at him with its head tilted and curious bright blue eyes.

"Are you a robot too?" He asks breathlessly, and the dog yips happily as it sits down in front of him, tail wagging a couple of times. "Goody." He whimpers, and the black and white creature stiffens.

"Are you damaged?" It asks, and Spike decides that, what the Hell, if the animal-robot is friendly, why not be friendly too?

"No, no. I'm just… confused. What are you?"

"We are autonomous robotic organisms from the planet Cybertron." Another voice answers, and the teenager whirls around to stare at the Great Dane, who is standing as dignified as if it didn't have an adult human draped over its back.

"You're _aliens_?" He asks, wide-eyed, before realizing that it's a good explanation. "That's… kind of cool."

"I like the human!" The short-haired Border Collie yips, tail wagging happily. "Can we keep him?"

"We are not keeping anyone. But perhaps it would be better if we finished this conversation somewhere safer." The larger dog answers, sending a narrow-eyed look towards the now smoking oil refinery. "Would it be alright for you to accompany us to our ship?"

"Hell, yes!" He exclaims eagerly, allowing the fact that this beast robots have been friendly so far to help him relax. "Do you have some super cool teletransporting device?"

"Nope. We have something better." The white and black dog by his side answers, attracting the teenager's attention. "We have an all-terrain maximum stability and cushioned seat transport with its own conditioning system."

"Really?"

"Yup. And it's big enough for you."

"That's awesome!"

"We know. We call it… Trailbreaker."

"You called?" At the new voice, Spike turns around, and all his excitement turns to confusion as he sees a large mostly black dog with white belly and muzzle and red between the two colors.

And then, horror fills him as he realizes just _what_ the promised vehicle is.

"You've got to be kidding me."

"Unless you want me to be carrying you again…" The too small black and white short-haired Border Collie answers almost innocently, though that large and sharp-toothed smile would be better on a _shark_.

"Curse you." He mumbles, capable of only pouting as the rest of dogs break out barking and yipping in their version of laughter.

Oh, well. How many other days does one get to meet alien animals that turn into robots?

Or is it the other way around?

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Don't take the names of the species Spike gives them here as the real ones, since the boy is giving them the most accurate name he can manage with a glimpse and lack of knowledge (per example, the 'mockingbird' is actually a Loggerhead Shrike). If the story continues, they will be revealed next chapter. To those that don't want to wait, just ask, I'll answer.

So... who can guess who is who?


	5. Mirror Mirror II

**Story:** Mirror Mirror

**Chapter title:** Unknown Companions

**Continuity:** _Transformers: Prime_, after _Predacons Rising_

**Summary:** 'Your dead shall live; their bodies shall rise. You who dwell in the dust, awake and sing for joy! For your dew is a dew of light, and the earth will give birth to the dead.' Or so human literature said. However, when things become a bit too literal, how are the Autobots, plus Knockout, going to answer? And what if those dead weren't their own?

**Synopsis:** Meet some more SG characters, which means, be ready for some surprises.

* * *

><p>Slowly, after being given permission by two voices, Bumblebee enters the Repair Bay.<p>

As the previous orn, Ratchet is working on Cliffjumper while Knockout treats Skyquake and Hardshell, going from one to the other as he lets the repairs and welts integrate and cool off. Only, this time, Breakdown is repairing Dreadwing.

The assistant medic's frame is back in working order, all of the grotesque repairs having been redone as they should, and the missing optic once more covered by a black patch.

The scars on his chassis are hidden under a sandy color scheme, and his faceplate is a soothing pale blue.

The warrior can't help but blink in surprise as a lone forest green optic turns around to where he's still standing at the door.

He's even more stunned when, instead of wariness, there's curiosity in it.

"So, who are you supposed to be? You remind me of Bumblebee." Breakdown asks calmly, and the other two medics look up.

"I'm Bumblebee." He answers dumbly, before shaking his surprise off and walking inside to hand over the Energon cubes he's carrying on a tray.

"Really?" The alternate 'Con, as Smokescreen calls them, smiles at that, taking the cube the black and yellow mech offers without hesitation. "That's—huh…" Finally becoming wary, green searches for black and red. "What's he like here?"

Instead of feeling insulted by being talked about as if he wasn't there, the younger Cybertronian steps back to leave them some space, going to stand by Ratchet's side.

"Tame, friendly… but don't mess with him, he can stand his own ground." Knockout answers easily while sipping his Energon.

Breakdown smiles again.

"Then he's like our Bumblebee. Thank Primus for small mercies."

"Aren't our universes supposed to be complete opposites?" The youngest Autobot asks, confused, and the smile wavers before vanishing.

"Well… Our Bumblebee was like you… before he became Goldbug. He's a ruthless and Energon-thirsty warrior." And the black and yellow mech winces. "Bumblebee was always the mellowest of Autobots, but he left them for some time and… when he rejoined them, he became Goldbug. New color scheme, kind of like the inverse of yours, and completely new personality matrix. Our Knockout thought that he may have been reprogrammed, but we never had the chance to prove it."

"Slag, that's…"

"Not something below the standards of our universe's Prime." Breakdown finishes with a sad smile, and Bumblebee's doorwings drop in dread. "I don't know how your Prime was, but… I'm glad he's not here." And the relief in the voice and the shiver of horror racking the sandy frame are enough to make the young warrior take a step back.

Optimus was the best mech he ever met. In a universe where things are completely opposite…

The black and yellow Autobot shakes his helm, erasing those thoughts.

He doesn't want to perverse his memory of their leader with imaginings of some mech he'll never meet.

The beeping on the background changes its rhythm, turning their attention to the dark frame lying still on a berth.

"Is he…?"

"Sounds like it." Knockout answers, taking a small step towards the other Decepticon. "I guess I should be the first he sees." Nods answer him and, with one last step, he stops at the berth's side. "Soundwave? Rise and shine, there's a lot you need to get up to date."

The dark frame trembles a bit before the screen tilts towards the medic, as black and polished as usual, reflecting the other mech's red and white faceplate.

"Knockout?" The voice is so raspy that it's almost mechanical, though the tone is reminiscent of the human children when they fall asleep in the base and have to be awakened to be brought back to their homes.

Innocent and vulnerable and _cute_.

And yet, it's unmistakably Soundwave's.

Judging by how the red medic stares in shock and the now sandy Decepticon beams happily and quickly approaches, the Communications Officer is no longer the one Bumblebee knew.

"Soundwave! How are your self-diagnoses coming up? Don't try to move, you were almost completely depleted when you were found." Breakdown tells him happily, resting a servo on a dark shoulder plate.

The other three tense at the gesture, but the servo raised to lay on the bigger one clings to it instead of pushing it away.

"Energon levels are at 89.8863%, and my voice box is suffering severe disuse, but self-repair can deal with it. What happened?" The green optic looks away from the screen as the smile vanishes.

"I'm not sure myself, but do you remember what Shockwave said? About different universes?" A small nod, and the Grounder turns to the lithe Flier with a slightly awkward smile. "Well, we're in one."

"A different universe?"

"An opposite universe."

"That's why you're missing an optic?"

"We got pulled into the frames of those that were deactivated here."

"And Breakdown was the one to lose his optic here." The screen moves again, tilting to see the still surprised but a bit more recomposed Knockout. "So that's why he has both of them. And why he's red and buffed."

"Wait, what?" The Decepticon medic asks, astonishment turning to slight annoyance, and Soundwave, with Breakdown's help, slowly sits up.

"Our Knockout lost an optic to a human organization called M.E.C.H., and his color scheme is blue." The sandy Grounder answers with an amused yet sad smile. "And he _hates_ buffing. 'Scars are medals of honor'. That's what he always says." He adds almost wistfully, glancing at the red mech without seeing him.

"He has red optics. Creepy." The dark Flier whispers, huddling closer to the larger frame, to their utter astonishment. "He looks like an Autobot."

"Ah, well…" Breakdown looks briefly towards Bumblebee and Ratchet, to all appearances not knowing how to explain them.

But it's not needed, for Soundwave follows his gaze.

Despite the mechanical tone of his voice having lessened somehow the longer he's been speaking, his screech is like stuck gears grinding against each other.

And the way he presses further against the sandy frame is almost worse than hearing his fear.

"Soundwave, Soundwave! Calm down! They're not like our Autobots!" Breakdown exclaims, embracing the shuddering frame. "They're not, they're not, calm down, we're fine." His voice lowers to a whisper as the screeching stops and, slowly, the shivering diminishes. "Their Ratchet is a sworn medic, and the Bumblebee lookalike is _really_ Bumblebee. Like _our_ Bumblebee."

"Like ours?" A small and scared voice repeats, slightly hopeful, and Soundwave's screen is pulled off the sandy frame to turn to the dumbstruck Autobots and Knockout.

"Like ours." The Wrecker whispers back, relaxing as the other tentatively pulls away. "They're helping us repair the twins." He adds, signaling the two Seekers still in stasis lock on the nearby berths.

The dark mech stiffens, and Bumblebee has to force himself _not_ to do so too.

This Soundwave isn't the menacing and almost unbeatable Decepticon he knows. He's almost newspark-like, to his utter disbelief, and he _won't_ hold a newspark accountant for what his lookalike did.

"Are they… downgraded? How did that happen?" The Flier asks with a tilt of his helm and confusion and awe in his smoothing voice, deep yet innocent.

"I told you, we were pulled into the frames of those that were deactivated here."

"I still don't know why you're so sure they got their frames downgraded. What would be the benefits of _that_?" Knockout asks with a scowl, crossing his arms.

"Here, let me show you!" Soundwave exclaims, jumping off the berth and quickly connecting one data cable to a console as he moves to stand next to where a stasis locked Laserbeak is resting. "Old Model Seeker frames are sturdier, stronger." Schematics appear on the screen, various systems being highlighted alternatively. "More firepower, stronger engines… less speed, maneuverability and agility, though, which is one of the reasons our twins would have never changed their frames. Besides, they worked really well in theirs." A short chirp makes all optics go to the moving symbiont, and the Flier lets out a—a _squeal_, before taking it up in his arms. "You're finally operative, Buzzsaw! How are your self-diagnoses coming up?"

"Buzzsaw?" All in the room, minus Breakdown, repeat, utterly confused at both the silent Communications Officer's chirpiness and the unknown designation.

"Yes, Buzzsaw. Be nice and say hello! We're in a universe where the Autobots are good, can you believe it?" The symbiont's helm turns to assess the rest of mechs, before trilling a salutation.

Stunned, Bumblebee can only nod back.

"Uh, Breakdown?" The tone is almost sheepish, and the slight shifting of the Flier, almost as in nervousness, makes the rest reboot their optics as if trying to dispel an image that isn't there.

It doesn't change.

"Yes?"

"Can I get a repaint? All this black and dark purple is… eerie. I want my original color scheme back."

Both Decepticon Grounders smile widely at that.

"Why, of course! We'll leave you almost as shiny as myself." Knockout answers instead, signaling his own chassis with a flourish, and, despite not having a proper faceplate, the awe coming from Soundwave is clearly visible.

"Really?" He asks of his fellow alternate, who nods proudly.

"Who do you think got _me_ back in my color scheme?" Both the Flier and the symbiont squeak happily, bouncing in place, and Bumblebee finally manages to exchange a look with Ratchet.

And judging from what he sees, the Medic is as stunned and disbelieving as he is.

"I know we are supposed to be from opposite universes, but I would have never _imagined_ that Soundwave would be like _that_." The ambulance manages, shaking his helm, and attracting the attention of the Decepticons from where the red medic is showing the Flier a palette of colors.

"Be like what? Why do you say that?" Breakdown asks, curious, and Ratchet gestures a bit with his hands before finally finding the words to explain.

"Well, Knockout would know better than us, but Soundwave was _always silent_, and quiet and… Primus, you could have thought him a drone!"

And Bumblebee knows the words are wrong as soon as they're said, because the dark Flier flinches back as if struck and the sandy Grounder's remaining optic fills with worry and dread as he turns around.

"Soundwave, Soundwave, look at me." He whispers, slightly fearful, but the Communications Officer has huddled into himself and doesn't react as his arms are grabbed. "Soundwave, come on, talk to me, don't do that. It's me, Breakdown, come on, little one, say something. Soundwave, _please_…" Optics blown wide, the warrior turns to the white and orange Medic with slight apprehension at the desperation in the Decepticon's voice and the unresponsive Flier, the symbiont trilling softly as it looks up at its master's screen. "_Soundwave_…"

"Shockwave?" The dark mech finally whispers, but the desperation in his fellow alternate bot doesn't vanish.

In fact, it seems to become more frantic.

"Still in our universe." He manages to answer as equally low, lone optic looking over the still turned down screen. "Soundwave—"

"Airachnid?"

"She's—she's still back in our—"

"Megatron?" A small tremble appears in the still quiet voice, and Breakdown starts to shake.

"Still… in our…" The helm turns a bit to the side, and the Grounder falls silent, optic blown wide. "Soundwave, please—"

"Shouldn't you tell Starscream I'm operative once more? I'm sure he will like to come meet us once he's done with patrol."

The whole room becomes as still as if it had been frozen solid.

"Starscream's not here." Knockout answers softly, as his not-partner seems to be in some kind of paralyzed state.

"I know. He would be in here if he was in the ship." Soundwave's voice is still soft and quiet, his frame swaying a bit in Breakdown's shaking servos. "But he won't be so worried if he knows I'm up and functioning. He doesn't like surprises."

"No, it's not that. _Your_ Starscream isn't here."

All movement of the dark frame stops, and the sandy mech finally comes back to the present.

"Soundwave?" The Flier takes a step back, out of his grasp, and lets his symbiont fold back into his chest before lifting an empty screen to stare at the Grounder.

And Bumblebee sees the Communications Officer he's known all his function standing there, instead of the bubbly stranger.

Somehow, it feels wrong.

"Soundwave? Soundwave, you're not—please don't—Soundwave…" With a defeated whine and a wide scared optic, Breakdown steps away and covers his faceplate with his servos as he tries to calm down. "This—this can't be happening, this is just a bad flux, yes, it has to be—I—I'm not ready for this, I'm not supposed to take charge of _anything—_I _can't_ do this, Megatron, Starscream, _somebot_, please _help_…"

"Ow, my _processor_."

The voice isn't unknown, despite how long it has been since Bumblebee heard it, but he still jumps in surprise.

And quickly turns around to see Cliffjumper's blue optics come online slowly.

"What in the Pit did I drink last off-shift?" The red Minibot mutters to himself, trying to bring an arm up but unable to because of the restraints.

His optics blaze and go wide at that, quickly turning to see all his limbs stuck to the berth.

And then, he looks up, and his frame tenses when he sees Ratchet.

"Hey, Doctor. I'm operative and functional, everything's in the green, I have reports to take care of and a shift to get back to, and you know how Arcee is, she will—" The smile on his faceplate is almost calm as he babbles.

Almost.

There's unease and fear under it.

"Cliffjumper." The mech falls silent at the Medic's uttering of his designation, optics still wide. "You're not in your universe."

Silence.

And then, a scowl appears on the Minibot's faceplate, a gesture that is downright _ugly_ because of the ire fueling it along confusion.

"The _slag_ are you talking about, medic? Release me at once or _you_ will be strapped here!"

Bumblebee takes a step back, unable to recognize the red mech he once called a friend.

Blue optics turn to him at the movement—and they widen in horror as the scowl turns to a gape.

"Goldbug! I, huh, I didn't mean any of that, you know that, right? I really need to get back to work, though, so if you could order our _dear_ doctor to release me, before Arcee comes looking for me, I'd owe you one, so, what do you say, Goldbug, buddy?"

If the smile directed at Ratchet was uneasy and fearful, the one he is now giving the warrior is downright pleading and horrified.

Bumblebee finds his voice box failing him, and he takes yet another step away almost without thought.

Cliffjumper's optics widen even more, all hints of pleading drowned by fear at what looks like rejection from what he believes is a fellow Autobot—

"I'm Bumblebee." He finally manages, and disbelief makes the red Minibot tense. "Not Goldbug, Bumblebee. This… this really isn't your universe."

"Are you slagging _kidding_ me?"

"He's not." All optics turn to Knockout, who stands between the Autobots and the other two Decepticons with his servos resting casually yet firmly on his pelvic plating, a scared Breakdown looking over his shoulder with the still impassive Soundwave in his embrace.

"Decepticons!" Cliffjumper _roars_, straining against his bindings, and the red medic has his chainsaw and drill out in less than a nanoklik, stance tense but ready, as the other two step back.

"Would you look at me?! Can't you count or are you _this_ slow? I have _both_ optics!" Silence falls on the room as the Minibot's blue optics move between the red of the sports car, widening slowly in realization. "This is _not_ your universe. It's an opposite one where _Decepticons_, meaning _me_, have no qualms about ridding a mech of his spark while he's strapped to a medical berth. And there will be no Prime to stop me."

"No Prime?" Cliffjumper sputters, straining a bit against his restraints, but looking and sounding more surprised than dreadful. "And Arcee? Is she here?"

"She's not."

And then, to the rest of the room's occupants' astonishment, the Minibot starts laughing hysterically, almost as if his logical centers have been fried, the sound growing louder and more unstable the longer it goes on.

"I'm _free_! Primus bless you all, I'm _free_!" He shouts, leaning against his berth with his fans whirling non-stop as he tries to cool his frame. "No more Prime, no more orders, no more _wacko femme_! I'm _free_, I'm free, I'm free…" His words slowly degenerate into mumbles laced with static, optics shuttered and frame shaking softly. "I'm free…"

"Technically, you're still strapped to a berth." Knockout spouts without thought, or so it sounds like to Bumblebee.

But it isn't as if he can judge him, after all, he is still trying to make sense of things himself.

Cliffjumper laughs again, though this time more in normal relief than hysterically.

"But there's no Dark Energon-crazed Prime, and no—no—no _sparkless_ glitch-filled malfunctioning Energon-thirsty Arcee! And you said this is an opposite universe, so that means _this_ Ratchet will actually _repair me_ instead of just patching me up!" He answers giddily, smile so wide and happy that one would think he's been offered the whole planet to do as he wishes.

Not knowing how to answer to _that_, Bumblebee looks at the white and orange medic.

Who doesn't seem to be any better, but at least he has his processor still working.

"I'm going to keep you in here some more. I'm not done with repairs."

"Sure, Doc, I'll stay _gladly_. So, you can get the cuffs off now, I'm going to enjoy being actually _thoroughly_ repaired without having to worry about my internals being modified." Cliffjumper answers with a big smile.

"The cuffs stay."

"What?!"

"The cuffs stay. You're unstable, and have demonstrated a tendency to 'strike first, ask later'. So, you'll stay cuffed until I say so." Ratchet explains, calmer, and not reacting when the Minibot throws a dark and sarcastic smile his way.

"Why, _Doctor_, do you think I would attack your _precious_ Decepticons? The only good price in here is the medic, and I'm not in need of defrag _that_ badly so as to attack a doctor in a _Repair Bay_. I'll be as nice and nonthreatening as a Decepticon." He finishes with a fake innocent smile, and the ambulance scowls darkly.

"You won't attack anyone because I am _not_ releasing you. And that's final." He growls as he takes a syringe filled with a pale liquid, and the red mech's confidence quickly turns to unease at the sight.

Ratchet freezes at the change in expression, quickly looking at the tool in his servo.

"Please, it's just an anesthetic. Slagging Autobots, so _prissy_. And I am _not_ of your twisted universe." Knockout scoffs, weapons nowhere to be seen and arms crossed against his chassis.

"You're not? Then, only that pitiful excuse of a Wrecker is? How about the drone?"

"Soundwave's _not_ a drone!" Breakdown shouts, optic blazing in fury, as he carefully pushes the Flier behind him.

"_Sure_ he isn't. Does it even know how to talk?" The Minibot mocks, his confidence returning as Ratchet doesn't bring the syringe in his line of sight again.

"I do." Startled, all of them turn to the dark mech, still holding himself much like the Soundwave Bumblebee knows, but having obviously spoken in that softened voice of the alternate.

"Well, isn't that a _surprise_."

"Mute it, _Autobot_." The sandy Grounder hisses, a servo resting on the Flier's arm. "Come on, Soundwave. Let's get you some Energon."

"Aw, poor widdle Decepti_scum_. Are you scared, Wrecker reject? After all, your medic isn't here to fight for you now." Cliffjumper spits with a sharp smirk, and Ratchet lifts the syringe again.

This time, the Minibot doesn't react.

"He may not be, but we can always call Megatron, if you want." The words are spoken easily, but the reaction is immediate.

Terror clearly reflected in his faceplate and frame shaking, the red Autobot turns to the nonchalant Knockout.

"Or Starscream. He's always babbling about extinguishing your spark, so—"

"No! No, mercy! Not them! I'll be quiet!"

"You're not being 'quiet' right now."

His mouth opens, but Cliffjumper quickly closes it, looking at the medic in fear and the slightest tinge of hope.

And then, Knockout jumps in surprise, as does Breakdown, before they turn to look at an impassive Soundwave.

"An _emergency beacon_? What for?" The red Decepticon asks in confusion, and Ratchet and Bumblebee exchange a look.

"Because according to your data, you have no information about Shockwave, Starscream or Airachnid." As one, they all turn to the tentacle _still_ attached to the screen, and the black and yellow mech feels like slapping himself.

Soundwave's been sifting through the _Nemesis_' database right in front of their optics, and none has seen it.

"Maybe they're of ours but you don't know about it." The Flier adds softly, helm lowering, and Bumblebee's spark aches at the sight.

It reminds him too much of when he and Raf were on the run after outpost Omega-1 was destroyed, not knowing about the others but never losing hope.

And how Ratchet was when they found him.

That's the same expression on Breakdown's faceplate now.

"Come on, Soundwave, let's get you back into your color scheme, alright?" He asks softly as the tentacle detaches and curls back in place at the Flier's side, putting an arm around his shoulder plates and guiding him to one of the Repair Bay's back rooms.

"Sentimentalism. Yuck." Cliffjumper scoffs with a disgusted scowl, and, before they can react, Knockout has his chainsaw circling barely above the Minibot's chest plates.

"Now, look here, _Autobot_. Perhaps the mechs that answer that emergency call won't be the ones you know, but guess what? _Megatron_ will come. The mech who destroyed Prime and defeated Unicron will fly back here, and guess what he did with _our_ Cliffjumper? He _experimented_ on him, to the point he was a protocol-less _machine_, a thing that didn't even understand _binary_. And want to know more? He will order _me_ to deal with _you_ this time, unless he wants to rip you apart slowly with his own servos. And I have a _lot_ of experiments I would _love_ to try on a mech. I. Am. _Not_. Your Knockout." The smirk on his faceplate can't be called sane anymore, and the Minibot can only look in horror as the saw slowly gets closer to his chest plates, hovering above his _spark_—

He squeaks, and Knockout pulls back.

"So keep that present."

And without further words, he turns back to Hardshell's frame and keeps repairing him.

When Ratchet injects the sedative in Cliffjumper's line, the alternate Autobot doesn't even twitch.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> SG Knockout's descripiton is taken from this: i . imgur (.com) / OmK2m (.png)

And... That's it, I guess. Two more up and about (in a sense), though there are still some more waiting to be introduced. After that... well *shrug* I guess you can throw your ideas and I'll try to make them a reality, or I'll just let my brain come up with some more craziness.


	6. Jasper II

**Story:** Jasper

**Chapter title:** Meetings

**Continuity:** _Transformers: Prime_ AU in which the Cybertronian are cats (TFP Kittyformers)

**Summary:** When the McKenzie moved away, Rafael didn't think having new neighbors could be such a big change. But, well, that's what happens when said new neighbor brings along her five cats. And Miko complained that Jasper wasn't 'the entertainment capital of the world' her brochure had promised...

**Warnings:** First meeting of the Autocats and the Decepticats (and yes, they understand human language, don't ask how or why).

* * *

><p>Had he been any other cat, Bumblebee would have jumped from his human's arms.<p>

As it is, he's just fidgeting excitedly as they approach the house with the new human, but, most importantly, with the new cats.

As many as claws in a front paw.

Rafael chuckles and pets him, and he stops to enjoy the feeling of fingers rubbing his head.

His human's parents are with them, and, when the new human opens the door, immediately start talking.

The house is the same yet different than his own, and he avidly examines it from his human's arms.

And then, there are bigger and rougher fingers rubbing his head, and he purrs once more.

"Such a lovely little one." The old human laughs, pulling her hand away. "What is his name?"

"Bee." Rafael answers, and the kitten meeps in response. "I know he looks like a tiger and that would have been the most expected name… but he's too sociable to be called Tiger. So, Bee." The old lady chuckles once more, but Bumblebee's attention is on the cat sitting on the corridor observing them, the long-haired ginger with the paler front and belly and dark brown eyes.

"Hi!" He exclaims, squirming a bit in his human's arms.

The other cat lets out a purring meow as he approaches the old female, rubbing against her legs to grab their attention.

"Ah, and this would be the most social of my boys. Say hello, Red." The ginger just purrs as he stands on his back legs, stretching to allow his human to scratch his head without her having to bend down.

And then, to the kitten's delight, he's put on the ground, and the other feline's dark brown eyes are immediately on him as he falls down to all fours and elegantly approaches the smaller cat.

"And who would you be?" He asks with a lovely deep purring voice, as velvety and silky as his own fur, leaning closer so that they can sniff each other.

"I'm Bumblebee, but my human calls me Bee." He answers, reaching to playfully bat at the ginger's whiskers once the larger cat straightens, one of his own paws pushing his away.

"Well, I'm Knockout. And you have already heard my human name." The older feline responds, moving back down the corridor as the humans step into the room with the large comfy seats, only Rafael staying behind, sitting against the wall to observe them.

"Where are you from? Why did you come here? What breed are you? I'm a Toyger!" He meeps happily, following the long-haired cat and trying hard not to bat at the fluidly moving tail in front of his snout.

"Breed?" The ginger repeats, a hint of amusement in his voice, as he stops, looking over his back as the kitten sits down. "I'm a Ragdoll Cat."

And Bumblebee can only watch in awe as the ginger turns, his bright red fur shining glossily under the light—

"Wait, aren't Ragdolls supposed to be white? And _huge_?" The older cat snorts in annoyance, tail rising sharply, and the kitten's blue eyes go back to it immediately.

Oh, he wants to play with it _so badly_…

"_Obviously_, I'm a _mixed_ Ragdoll Cat. And don't even _think_ about that." Trying to look innocent, the smaller male turns to meet the ginger's dark brown eyes, but his no-nonsense tone is clearly mirrored by his unrelenting expression.

"Aw…" He whines, ears pulled down and eyes as wide as they can be in his best pleading expression.

Knockout doesn't bulge.

"Can we play something else?" He asks at last, once more perking up, when it becomes clear the ginger will _not_ allow him to bat at his fluffy red tail, no matter how much he wants to.

Rafael's startled yelp quickly makes both of them turn to where the boy is sitting, a completely calm slender black cat sitting close to the human, ice blue eyes half lidded as he looks at the surprised expression on Bumblebee's caretaker's face.

"Shadow, didn't I tell you not to startle our guests?" The old female's voice calls from the room where she is with his human's parents, but the strange cat doesn't even twitch a whisker, staring at Rafael with those half-lidded and piercing impossibly pale eyes in his dark face, leaving the boy unable to do more than gulp nervously, slowly scooting away from the calm feline.

"And that is Soundwave. Never heard him make a sound." Knockout explains from Bumblebee's side, and, finally, the black cat stands up and calmly, and completely silent, walks to them, lowering his head to sniff the tiger-like kitten. "He's a Siamese."

"Hi, I'm Bumblebee." He introduces himself happily once the other cat has straightened once more.

But, instead of an answer, all he receives is those piercing too pale blue eyes, almost white, fixed on his.

Slightly nervous, he takes a couple of steps away, before rushing to hide at the ginger's back.

"Would you _please_ stop that?" Knockout huffs and, unsure if he's talking to him or that unnervingly quiet black cat, the kitten chances a peek from behind the fluffy red hair.

When he sees both older males are staring at one another, Bumblebee relaxes and takes a look around.

And that's when he notices the large gray-blue cat with tan face, neck, underbelly and paws observing them from under one of those tiny tables humans leave in the corridors, a single amber eye meeting the kitten's, for the other is closed.

"Hi!" He meeps happily, immediately recognizing that one-eyed look from the day before, as he rushes to the other cat. "I'm Bumblebee! Who are you?" He asks happily, the older male standing and leaving the younger with his mouth open in shock. "Whoa, you are a lot bigger than I first thought." He muses out loud, observing the other cat and immediately noticing its short tail, though he quickly turns to stare into his startled yellow eye, awaiting a response.

"Uh. I'm Breakdown, but Nanny calls me Breaker." He finally answers, voice deep but soft as he tentatively leans down to sniff the kitten. "I'm a mixed Manx." He adds before the yellow and black cat can ask, something that makes the smaller one tilt his head in curiosity.

"You're mixed too?"

"What did you expect?" A voice calls from above, and Bumblebee sharply tilts his head up to see a head peeking out from over the tall table thingy before it disappears.

"Hey, wait! I'm Bumblebee, who are you?!" He squeaks, worried about a possible new friend simply staying up there, away from reach.

Before he can call again, though, a gray shape jumps down, landing gracefully before straightening and looking down at the kitten.

The Toyger's mouth falls open as he sits down in surprise.

"You have the longest legs I've ever seen!" He meeps without thought, startled at the newcomer's appearance, for not only does the mostly gray cat have the longest legs ever, but he has big ears and a tail that seems half of what it should be.

Large rounded triangular ears press back against the skull with a nonplussed look as the cat looks down at him with annoyance, Knockout and Soundwave calmly approaching them as, behind them, Rafael watches in awe.

"Aren't you a bright one." He deadpans, tail twitching before his ears stand up again, looking almost pompous. "My name is Starscream." He adds haughtily, head tilting up to the point the kitten can no longer seen the brownish red stripe from his forehead to his dark gray shoulders. "And I'm a mixed Savannah Cat."

"Nanny calls him Skinny." The ginger adds calmly, even as the larger feline turns to him with a silent hiss, neither him nor the Siamese looking worried about the flash of sharp teeth.

"Allow me to remind you, my dear Knockout, that this body is pure muscle, unlike some other cats, who nurse… _nuisances_. As if there was any use in long hair." Starscream rumbles, straightening proudly, while the Ragdoll glares at him.

"Really now? Who does Nanny pay more attention to?" The ginger returns with a mocking smirk, earning another hiss from the larger cat.

"You poor needy _thing_. Even a _rat_ would discard you, with so much fur covering what little meat is available."

"And they would discard _you_ for how obvious it is that there's nothing more than _bone_ there." Knockout retorts, tail lashing with annoyance as he glares at the gray feline.

"They're always like this." Breakdown whispers when Bumblebee takes a step back, slightly worried that there's going to be a fight. "Starscream's always this haughty, and Knockout loves his fur a lot, so they're always throwing jabs at each other." Relieved by the larger cat's reassurance, the kitten sits down next to the Manx and looks up into his single yellow eye.

"Do you want to play?"

"Play what?"

"Anything! Chase, mock fighting, hunting…" He lists excitedly, once more on his feet as he stalks an invisible prey.

"Is the kitten serious?" Starscream asks, his argument with Knockout forgotten as both turn to stare at him.

"Does he know how much would that tangle my fur?" The ginger adds with his snout scrunched in distaste, earning a long-suffering look from the long-legged cat.

Before anyone can answer, the doorbell rings.

The old woman calmly walks out of the room to open it, and Bumblebee squeaks happily as he sees the newcomers, quickly rushing to salute them before Rafael grabs him.

"Calm down, Bee. You'll all be able to play soon enough." His human chuckles, and the kitten playfully bats at his nose.

"I'm June Darby, Jack's mother. It's a pleasure to meet you, Mrs. Devon." The black-haired woman's voice quickly catches the Toyger's attention, who turns around to see the older female scratch the head of the white and orange cat in her arms.

"Please, call me Nanny dear. We are in the living room, so come along." She answers, gesturing for the humans to follow, and her smile widens when she sees the four cats patiently waiting near the tall table thing. "Ah, there are some of my boys." Knockout calmly saunters towards her, rubbing against her legs once more while Starscream and Soundwave stay sitting where they are, Breakdown hiding behind them. "This is Red. The black serious one is Shadow, and the one by his side is Skinny. And if you wait a moment you'll see Breaker behind them. He's a shy one, my poor boy. He's had some bad experiences with people." She explains, signaling the felines.

And then, they enter the room once more, but not before June leaves the cat in her arms on the ground, with Jack and Rafael letting theirs come down too as they sit in the spot the younger boy had been previously occupying.

"Arcee! Ratchet!" The kitten calls happily as he bounces to his friends, rubbing his head against the Russian Blue female runt and the Turkish Van old male, despite the latter's attempts to push him away.

"Hello to you too, Bumblebee." The female purrs, licking his head a couple of times to try to tame his puffy short fur. "How have you been since yesterday?"

"I've been fine! You've got to meet the new guys, they're really cool!" He answers happily, turning to bounce to Knockout's side, the ginger now sitting and calmly analyzing the newcomers. "They're all mixed, minus Soundwave. Wait. Is Soundwave mixed too?" He asks the long-haired feline, ho doesn't take his dark brown eyes from the other two.

"No, he's not." He answers simply, and, curious, Bumblebee turns to where the other three are still sitting, Breakdown now peering further from behind the other two.

"You're all really serious all of a sudden." He muses out loud, but Ratchet's huff quickly catches his attention.

"Having unknown cats brought to your home? I know I would be uncomfortable too." The mostly white cat answers, the top of his head, ears, shoulders and bushy tail a soft orange, blue-green eyes looking over the ginger before he calmly stands up and slowly approaches. "I'm Ratchet, but my human calls me Doc. I'm a Turkish Van."

"Knockout." The ginger responds with his deep silky purr, sniffing back once the older feline gets close enough. "Mixed Ragdoll Cat."

He's still too quiet, especially compared to when Bumblebee met him, but at least no one's scratching anyone, or hissing.

"I'm Arcee, Russian Blue Cat." The female adds, also calmly approaching and being given the same treatment as Ratchet. "Jack calls me Lady."

After a moment, Knockout's bushy tail twitches and he stands, his suave smile once more on his snout.

"Pleasure to meet you both. Come on, lets introduce you to the rest." He answers, walking back to his housemates with the other two calmly following, Bumblebee happily swatting at the Turkish Van's tail, despite it twitching out of the way.

Once introductions are out of the way, minus Soundwave, who hasn't made the slightest noise and has simply allowed Knockout to talk for him, the ginger turns to the older cat.

"Don't you know how to keep your fur _decent_? What have you done to that… that _fuzz_?" The Ragdoll scoffs, swatting a paw almost out of touch of the Turkish Van's back, body pulled back as if to avoid catching fleas or something.

"_Fuzz_?!" The older cat bristles, batting the ginger's paw away. "I take care of my own fur, so shut it!"

"Fur obsessed." Starscream mutters under his breath, purring softly in amusement, and receiving a soft glare from his housemate.

"Sack of bones."

"It's _muscle_." The Savannah cat hisses, standing with his short back fur bristling. "But then again, what would you know about that, you _hairball_." He adds haughtily, once more sitting down and nonchalantly licking a paw.

"Hairball?! My coat's a sea of silk!" Knockout growls softly, all his fur puffing out slightly, sharp teeth flashing. "Unlike some _bristle brush_." Starscream is the one to growl now, short tail lashing out in annoyance.

A quick look at the large tan and gray-blue cat shows him looking at his housemates with boredom, so Bumblebee relaxes and listens to the insults flying between them.

Before the kitten gets to be bored again, mostly because of the funny faces Ratchet and Arcee make as they watch the gray and red cats bicker, the doorbell rings again.

This time, Bumblebee stays in place as the old lady opens it, but he quickly stands up with a loud meow as he sees who are there.

The mated humans immediately start talking with the lady, but instead of entering, they let the young human female get inside and go away, allowing the older male to come inside.

From Miko's arms, Bulkhead salutes them with a loud meow, while Smokescreen tries to squirm out of Mister Trion's hold. At the man's feet, two adult cats exchange long-suffering and fond looks, respectively, before they follow their human inside.

When the other kitten is left on the ground, he immediately races to jump on Bumblebee, making them both roll on the ground laughing, while the large bobtailed American Shorthair follows at a trot, the other two waiting at the humans' paws.

"Hi everybody!" The green-gray male salutes as he reaches them, exchanging some sniffs with Ratchet and Arcee before the black-stripped kitten manages to get out of the grip of his playmate to salute him too. "I'm Bulkhead, but Miko calls me Wrecker. I'm an American Shorthair from Japan."

"Oh, the irony." Starscream deadpans, making both Knockout and Breakdown snicker.

"I'm Smokescreen!" The pale gray kitten exclaims, standing proudly. "I'm an Abyssinian."

"Mister Trion calls him Hermes." The Russian Blue adds, much to the younger male's horror.

"Aw, don't worry, young one. There are _worse_ names." The Ragdoll purrs, giving the Savannah cat a sharp smile, which is answered by a glare.

"Play nice with the new neighbors, Hermes!" The human male calls, before waving the cats at his feet away. "And you two go introduce yourselves."

"Yes, Alpha Trion." They meow in unison before standing and approaching the group.

"Alpha?" Knockout repeats, though he stays next to his housemates.

"He is the leader, so it seems only proper." The reddish-gray larger cat answers, voice powerful despite its low tone, and, like any other time before, Bumblebee can't help but feel awed at his mere presence.

And by how _shiny_ the golden sphere dangling from his collar is.

"Allow me to introduce ourselves. I'm Optimus, Orion to Alpha Trion, and a Somali. This is my brother, Magnus, Dion to Alpha Trion, and a Chartreux. And you have already met our younger brother, Smokescreen." The bushy-tailed male speaks calmly, his rumbling voice making the young Abyssinian puff out his chest, while the bluish-gray big cat by his side observes the others calmly.

"Brothers. How… _lovely_." A new voice scoffs, and, when he whirls around to find the source, Bumblebee finds himself pressing his body closer to the floor, ears folded back and eyes wide.

Starscream and Soundwave move aside to let the newcomer step to the front, both lowering their heads respectfully, and it isn't just for the show.

The long-haired silver cat with almost red coppery eyes is the largest feline the kitten has ever seen, with difference.

When he finally stops in front of Optimus, his large size becomes even more evident, for, despite the Somali being the tallest of all the present cats until a moment before, the newcomer stands a head taller than him, and his thick fur doesn't help in making him look… tamer.

Nor do the scars on his muzzle or the highlights of dark silver that make his movements look even more fluid and sharp than they already are.

But even though Magnus and the others around the reddish-gray cat step away and lower themselves, Optimus doesn't move.

After a second of bright blue staring into reddish copper, the Somali lowers his head, though he never takes his gaze away nor allows one single hair out of his calm sitting position, bushy tail wrapped around his paws.

"We may not be related by blood nor breed, but what matters is how we feel about each other." He explains, as calm as before, and, for an instant, nothing happens.

And then, the silver cat tilts his head before lowering it, sniffing Optimus' muzzle as the Somali does his.

"That, it does." The largest feline responds, voice as powerful as his body, as he finally steps away and straightens, a smile on his snout. "I am Megatron, Gladiator to the humans, and Maine Coon of breed. A pleasure to meet you, Optimus."

The Somali smiles in answer, and, as if a dam had broken, all the other cats start to mingle.

"My, my. Looks like Gladiator likes them." Bumblebee hears the old lady say, stepping away from where he's mock fighting with Bulkhead against Breakdown and Smokescreen to see her with Mister Trion and the human teenagers, observing the felines. "That doesn't happen often."

"You have a lot of cats for it not happening often." The old human answers with a small smile.

"They practically came together. Gladiator and Shadow did, as well as Red and Breaker. And then Skinny came along too, but none other was allowed to even step close to me." She chuckles, before going back inside the room with the man and the three human youngsters.

Beaming happily at knowing the harsh test they've just passed, Bumblebee turns around to observe the rest of cats.

Breakdown and Bulkhead are tussling on the carpet, enjoying themselves like kittens, while Smokescreen bounces around, waiting for a chance to strike.

Next to the wall, Knockout and Ratchet are arguing about something or other, with the ginger constantly grooming himself, to the Turkish Van's annoyance.

Soundwave and Magnus are standing silently and observing the fight, at ease despite their apparent tense stances.

Optimus and Megatron are also observing the brawling cats, though lying down, the Somali in front of the Maine Coon, but still being small enough that he doesn't impede his sight.

And Starscream and Arcee seem to be playing chase around the legs of the table thing, the Savannah Cat far faster than the small Russian Blue, but her agility keeps her out of reach.

Chuckling softly to himself, Bumblebee slowly moves closer to the older white and orange cat, observing his tail twitch in annoyance, waiting for the perfect chance…

He can feel the Siamese and the Chartreux's eyes on him, but they say nothing, so, when the tail twitches into pouncing range, he jumps.

Ratchet's startled yowl is loud enough to make Knockout fly to his feet, looking like a literal hairball as all his fur stands on edge, while the rest of cats easily recover from their scare and burst out laughing and purring at both the angry Turkish Van chasing the small Toyger, and the devastated Ragdoll trying to lick his fur down in place.

Lost in his mirth, Bumblebee only realizes that jumping to hide behind Optimus is a mistake when he slams against Megatron's belly, almost buried in his long fur before he manages to untangle himself, feeling the vibrations of an angry growl from the large cat—

Or from amused purring, as he discovers when he finally manages to get out of the tangle of silver long hair, quickly finding the smirk showing pointy teeth.

"Looks like you have a potential predator here." He rumbles without the slightest hint of anger, and the yellow kitten can only meep in surprise when teeth close on his neck scruff to pull him off of the Maine Coon at last, only to find himself laid between Optimus front paws.

"It certainly looks like it." The Somali answers, purring softly, before proceeding to groom the Toyger's messed up short fur, what feels like all of it standing on edge by his near-death experience.

When he finally manages to relax, he notices that Breakdown is grooming a still morose-looking Knockout, Bulkhead lying by the Manx's side and calmly explaining something, with Ratchet and Arcee curled sleepily against each other at the ginger's other side, and Ultra Magnus, who is lying down and trying to groom an uncooperative Smokescreen much like Optimus is doing with Bumblebee, between them and the Maine Coon, still lying next to the Somali.

At Megatron's tail, Soundwave is curled into himself, front paws under his chest and tail around his body, no sign of those unnerving icy eyes of his, with Starscream sprawled next to him, the Savannah Cat's back against the Siamese's side.

It may be a new situation, and strange to be surrounded by so many cats, but Bumblebee finds himself purring, and not only from Optimus' ministrations.

They may have just met their new neighbors, but lying here in the corridor, simply being there, the kitten feels like home.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> And... it _definitely_ didn't turn out as I expected. But Megatron's 'Megatronus' side decided to make an appearance, and thus we have a happy ending. Plus, there's no war nor factions, and it's clear for the Decepticats that the 'intruders' will go away with their respective humans, so why not be nice?

Yes, I know there are some characters missing. Yes, I have them planned out, as well as their meetings. No, I don't know when that will happen. Actually, I know a couple of them, the rest are random. So, feel free to ask for any of them to be introduced next, it will help me write out the next chapter, truth be told.

Bumblebee's childish behavior is because he's a kitten. He'll mature. As will Smokescreen (I hope).

Also, ask away if there's some scene you want to see, past or future. As said before, this fic is to put the ficlets that don't have a definite plot (yet), so that I can empty my head, so there may be some things I have yet to write but are already planned (like some of the cats' pasts or first meetings).


	7. Code of Ghost II

**Story:** Code of Ghost

**Chapter title:** First Lesson

**Continuity:** _Beast Wars_, begins at the end of episode 9 of season 2, _Code of Hero_

**Summary:** Once, a human writer said: 'Nothing can we call our own but death and that small model of the barren earth which serves as paste and cover to our bones.' And yet, when the time comes, there is neither for those who no longer live. So, what is a ghost to do?

**Warnings:** Not filling plotholes yet, but this will help with that later. Also, some characters may be OOCs here. Sorry 'bout that.

* * *

><p>"And why, pray tell, should I obey <em>you<em>?" The Decepticon asks condescendingly, as if talking to a child, though his smirk is sharp enough to cut.

Enraged, Dinobot lurches forward despite the lack of ground under his pedes and his weapons nowhere to be found—

And curls into himself with a pained roar as a thousand lightning bolts course through his wires.

"It seems the foolishness of the Autobots extends not only to Maximals, but even to their _associates_." The Flier mocks once the current ceases, allowing the Predacon to slowly straighten. "You still exist because my spark is supporting yours, but that doesn't mean you can take even a fraction of _my_ power. So, try to attack me again, and you'll feel my greatness once more. Obey me, and I may reward you by cutting the link between our sparks, so you may… fade."

Dinobot snarls at the once more condescending tone, tensing despite the warnings—

And quickly turning away at the sound of jets, startled.

"Ah, there they come."

The warrior can only feel astonished that he hadn't noticed any of it before.

The disintegrator, after all, is big enough to be seen easily on the cliff, even if they weren't almost standing—or floating—on top of it.

The formation is human in origin, though he doesn't remember its name. The fliers, on the other servo, he recognizes easily.

Optimus Primal, Cheetor and Silverbolt.

On the ground, manning the disintegrator's controls, is Rattrap, with Rhinox by his side.

And there, suspended between the funerary machine's prongs, is a body.

They've repaired the most obvious damage and cleaned most of the scorched marks and dirt, but, even if they hadn't, it would have been easily recognizable.

After all, Dinobot knows his own frame.

Stunned and not completely believing what he's seeing, he can only watch as the body turns into glittering blue and gold particles scattered by the wind as the fliers shoot over the machine, the rising sun tinting everything in shades of gold and orange.

"How long have I…"

"The rest of the night. They got your frame back to their base, prepared everything, and then proceeded with this wasteful ritual." The Decepticon answers with a sneer, and Dinobot quickly turns to look at him.

"Wasteful? How dare you—!"

"In a war, is it wise to destroy any available parts? Come on, I know you're still Predacon enough to know that the best way to honor a fallen warrior is to make sure he rejoins the fight by recycling him."

And, despite his disgust and anger, Dinobot just scowls and looks away, because Starscream is right, more so in this backwater Earth.

"They're not Predacons." He answers with a soft hiss, and, despite snorting, the Flier doesn't respond.

Silently, they watch Primal and the other two land and, after exchanging some words he doesn't manage to catch, they start to dismantle the disintegrator.

"Why are you keeping me here?" He asks without strength, more attentive to his former comrades than his current companion.

"I don't have to explain myself to you. But, I'll be merciful. You… intrigue me." And, with those three words, the Decepticon finds himself with all of Dinobot's attention on him.

Not that he seems to notice, arms crossed against his cockpit and gaze still on the Maximals.

"I am a warrior, and a traitor. You have never shown an interest in the former, and are an expert on the latter. How could I intrigue you?" He snarls softly, and, to his confusion, a humorless smile appears on the dark faceplate.

"It's not betrayal if I've never been on their side in the first place." His voice is almost wistful, and the Predacon finds himself startled by the answer. "Regardless of the popular opinion, I am one of the most loyal mechs you could ever find. As for warriors…" Red meets red as the Flier finally turns to him, quieting his words before they could even be spoken. "I knew someone who _was_ a warrior, honor code and all. And _this_ is why you intrigue me. I want to know more, so I'm going to keep you around until I'm satisfied." He adds, recovering his smug smirk, and Dinobot snarls at him.

"I am not a pet!"

"Never said you were." The Decepticon answers calmly, smirk sharpening. "And don't worry, I'm not in a hurry. After all, we have _all the time in the world_."

With an enraged roar, the Predacon turns around and walks away, weird as it is to move without anything under his feet.

"Don't go too far, my spark can only sustain you when you're in a certain range!" The Flier calls happily, as one would a child that was left to play in the park, and Dinobot whirls around—

And stops, optics locked on the Maximals below.

Specifically, on the smallest of them, who, ignoring the calls from the rest, walks away, back into the _Axalon_.

"Rattrap?" He whispers, willing himself to be at ground level—and, surprisingly, finding himself softly floating down.

Without a second thought, he hurries to the lift, but it's already away from his grasp when he reaches it.

He snarls in frustration, remembering the bridge and how it would look from inside to see the Transmetal rodent step out—

Determined, and pushing away any contradictions that pop up in his processor, he braces himself—

And jumps.

He feels absolutely nothing as he phases through the floor, finding himself standing as solidly in the bridge as if he still had his own body.

A quick look around easily locates Rattrap's retreating form, and, silent, he follows.

To his confusion, though, the rodent doesn't go to his quarters.

He goes to _Dinobot_'s.

Surprised, the Predacon stops at the threshold, even as the door closes almost through his back, and observes.

The Maximal looks around with his gaze empty, analyzing the few items he keeps there.

The barely used computer.

The rack with his spare swords, an empty space in it that will never again be occupied.

The skin of his clone.

And, he suspects, memories piling in the corners, along the smell of polishes and cleansing products for his weapons, and of leather and, perhaps, carrion from its last occupant himself.

Nor that he can prove it.

He can't smell anything.

But, obviously, Rattrap can, for he transforms to beast mode and lies just before the spot he occupied for the last time, kneeling in the middle of the room.

When he wasn't strong enough to take his own spark.

He's both embarrassed and glad that he didn't do it.

After all, he couldn't have saved the valley if he'd been dead.

"Why did you have to do it?" Rattrap whispers, voice harsh yet pained at the same time. "Why did you have to go and play hero, you overgrown lizard?" He adds, glaring first at the floor and then at the trophy skin, sporting the same stripes as his own. "You just had to distract them, not jump in weapons blazing! We were almost there!"

"But you _weren't_ there. Any distraction I could have pulled off wouldn't have been enough." He answers hotly, but the rat doesn't turn around, still glaring at what's left of his clone.

"But no, your _stupid_ honor code or whatever had you taking on _all seven_ Preds. And when you found it wasn't enough, what did you do? Not step back and wait for us to deal with whoever was left, like would have been the _reasonable_ thing to do. No, you _kept going_, and what happened? Well, you got yourself scrapped! Killed!"

"How dare you question my decision, Rodent! I did the only—!" But the servo he's thrown towards Rattrap's neck, ready to grab the Vermin and lift him to his face to give him a piece of his mind, goes _through_ the Maximal.

Startled at his moment of obliviousness, he throws himself away as the Maximal curls into himself with a chocked sob.

"Why in the Inferno did you have to go and leave us? Why did you leave _me_?"

"Rattrap…"

"What a _spark-breaking_ scene." A high-pitched voice scoffs from behind the Predacon, who whirls around with a murderous snarl. "If I had a body I would _purge_."

With a loud roar, and disregarding any possible repercussions, Dinobot throws himself at the Flier—

The lights flicker, stopping them all as they look up, one with surprise and the other with disbelief.

"What in the name of my great aunt Arcee…" The Maximal whispers, attracting their attention, as he, too, looks at the now stabilized lights. "Guess all those extra reinforcements to the defenses are draining us faster than we thought." He sighs, once more lying on the ground, curled into himself. "You know, Chopperface… I know this place on Cybertron, you can get dirty mech-fluid mixed with just a touch of radium… and, well, I guess you wouldn't care about the serving bots walking around minus their torso plates, if you know what I mean, but… I kinda wanted to get you there, see your reaction, have a few drinks… Who knows? Maybe you'll know some good bars yourself." He adds with a soft laugh.

Too soft.

If it had been any other mech, Dinobot would have even said that Rattrap sounded _sad_.

But… it can't be, can it?

"There was so much I wanted to—no, that I _needed_ to tell you…" The Maximal continues, oblivious to the struggle of his unseen comrade. "Like… I'm sorry, Chopperface. I'm sorry I goaded you like that, that the last time we could have a normal conversation without you… dying on us… was of me accusing you of… I told you before that it was forgiven, and I meant it! But… we're about to go home, and the Preds are going to be jumpier than ever and… and you never said you were going to come with us." Dinobot's breath hitches in his throat at that, almost taking a step back as the rodent curls further into himself. "I was worried about the Preds, worried about what they might get up to, worried that you wouldn't come with us… I was scared, Dinobot. But that shouldn't have been an excuse to let it all out on you. Even if, you know, you kind of deserved it, what with you giving Megs the Golden Disk and all…" He adds the last part almost with his normal infuriating tone of voice, but his soft trembling is more telling of what's really going on in his processor. "You shouldn't have had to pay such a high price for it, though…"

"Are we done yet? I swear, if I have to listen to more of this mushiness, I'm going to offline myself. Or, yourself, since I can't actually extinguish _my own_ spark, but—"

"_Enough_!" The Predacon roars, swirling around and punching the Flier into the wall, the lights flickering with the unheard impact. "Mute it, you despicable _traitor_! I don't care what you think, I don't care what you want, and I don't care _who in the slagging Inferno _you _are_!" His claws dig deep into dark neck cables, but the warmth of charged Energon is completely absent from his talons.

"I'm the one that can make you _wish_ you were in that Inferno." The Decepticon hisses, a confident smile on his faceplate despite his position.

"I wish I really _was_! I _should be_! This… I can't deal with this." He whispers, all his strength vanishing as if sapped by Tarantulas' web, slowly letting his servos fall to his sides. "There's got to be a better punishment than this…"

"You think this is punishment?" It is the lack of emotion in the voice that makes Dinobot look up, meeting the unreadable dark faceplate and distant optics of his only real companion. "I hope you never get to know why you're wrong." The Flier adds, focusing on him, before his gaze flickers to something at the Predacon's back.

Rattrap, once more in robot mode, walks out of the room grumbling about malfunctions in the power grid and 'having to fix everything myself'.

"How could this not be?" Dinobot finds himself muttering, gaze lost on the closed door for an instant before a servo wraps around his upper arm, tugging him through the wall.

"Trust me, you don't want to know."

"I don't trust you."

"Perfect, keep the good work up." To his utter confusion, there's no hint of sarcasm or falseness in the Flier's voice, but, finally, his words manage to shake him out of his pain-filled state enough to tug his arm free.

He doesn't stop walking, however, slightly behind the Decepticon so that he's leading the way.

"Where are we going?"

"First lesson of the ghost: the living can't feel you in any manner unless you want it to be so."

It takes a moment for it to sink, and, when it does, Dinobot stops short.

"What?"

"The flickering lights? That was _your_ doing."

Since the Flier doesn't stop, the Predacon has to run a couple of steps to catch up.

"What do you mean?"

"Watch and learn." And he finally stops in front of a well known closed door, giving him a dark smirk before walking through the metal barrier like it wasn't there.

Worried despite himself, Dinobot hurries to follow.

And stops short as he sees Cheetor curled in a ball on his berth, soft sounds filling the room, easily recognizable despite not being usually heard.

Sobs.

The young Maximal is crying.

"Cheetor?" The warrior whispers, and feels his spark contracting painfully.

He's not one to sweet talk or pat a mech's shoulder, but seeing the cheetah so _broken_, he can't help but feel the urge to do _something_.

Though now, more than ever, he is _helpless_.

The melody cuts through the air so suddenly that both ghost and Maximal jump in surprise.

Standing next to the now open music box—an adaptation of a human item the Autobots took with them back to Cybertron—Starscream smirks proudly.

Giving a quick look to the relaxing feline, Dinobot approaches the Flier, brow furrowed as he looks from the see-through servo on the lid of the box to charcoal faceplates.

"How did you…"

"First lesson. Here."

The Predacon stops, looking down at the extended servo suspiciously.

But the Decepticon simply stays still, patiently waiting for the warrior to yield.

He would have never grasped the sky blue appendage, but… Cheetor is sobbing softly once more, and even though his frame can't feel anything, his spark _throbs_.

So, he slowly puts his dark brown servo in the Flier's extended one.

Blue dactyls curl around his softly, tugging just enough for the Predacon to get the message that the Flier wants him to step closer to where the Maximal, in beast mode, is once more curled on his berth, though more relaxed than before as the unknown melody of the music box keeps playing.

"Now, the first thing you need to know is that we're no longer solid. We're nothing but sparks, which means energy." Starscream explains so patiently that Dinobot turns to him in surprise to make sure he really is the one talking. "Energy can still interact with the world, but to do so in a pseudo-physical manner, we need to concentrate enough of it that it creates a magnetic field. One strong enough to be felt, but weak enough that it doesn't interfere with whatever you're in contact with."

"Meaning?"

"In this case?" The Flier goes silent, optics dimming as he loses himself in thought. "You've never felt an ionic storm, have you?" The Predacon shakes his helm, and the other grimaces. "That just makes it harder to explain. Let's see… Ionic winds are the result of subatomic particles coming in contact with a magnetic field. They're not _physical_, since they're basically energy, but when the particles move fast enough, they can create wind currents. When that happens, you feel the tingling of energy and a soft breeze, depending on the intensity of the magnetic field. What we're trying to do is condense enough energy to create such a magnetic field so that the particles in the air and on the surface of the armor react with it, which would result in ionic movement that mimics the sensation of touch." The Decepticon turns to him, and scowls when he sees his confused look. "Agh, forget it. Let me show you instead."

And the hand holding his becomes _alive_.

Gasping in surprise, Dinobot finds himself grabbing the blue forearm plating with his free servo in an effort to… to what? He's not trying to pull him away, but…

Taking a couple of deep breaths, he concentrates on the feeling instead, a blanket of warmth and power and a tingling that is just _safety_ as he feels the energy wash over his servo in an impossible caress, here and not at the same time.

Words fail him, his whole frame shivering as it aches for _more_, but when he looks into the Flier's lopsided smile—and it _is_ a smile, not a grin or a smirk and with no hint of smugness in it—he knows the other understands, even if he himself has no idea what he's trying to say or do, if anything.

"Now, the amount of energy needed to accomplish this is quite precise, something that you would undoubtedly need to practice for quite a while before you manage to stay within the required parameters, not to mention the fact of restricting it to a servo instead of your whole frame. So, I'll help you just this once." The servo around his releases its grip, and Dinobot has to struggle not to grab it again at the loss of that unnamed comforting feeling.

The fact that he's being pushed to sit next to the ball of aqua, silver and yellow plating is more than enough to distract him, more so when the Flier moves to kneel at his back.

"What are you doing?!"

"Do you want to help him or not?"

And one look at the recharging Maximal, face scrunched in pain and body shivering, is more than enough to convince him.

A blue servo reaches for one of his, and he allows it to be guided to hover over Cheetor's back.

And feels a pang of something that could be called pain when he can't feel the warmth of the body under his servo.

A soft tingling from where the Decepticon's own is grabbing his wrist joint is more than enough to distract him and, slowly, the feeling extends to the tip of his dactyls and halfway up his forearm.

"This is the correct amount of energy to interact with a Cybertronian. In this case, it's a bit more than necessary because of the insulating Transmetal armor, so remember to use a bit less if the mech is in root mode, and even less if they're not Transmetal."

"Root mode?"

Starscream scoffs.

"Right, you call it robot mode. So _degrading_… Anyway. Try to remember the feeling."

"And now?"

"Now, you move."

Softly, the servo is pressed against plating, and Dinobot stiffens.

He can _feel_ Cheetor's body, solid and crawling with rivulets of energy like strings of water down glass, and warm as if the feline had been basking under the sun instead of being curled on his berth in his dark room.

And judging by the way the Transmetal's optics brighten slightly and his body tenses, the Maximal can feel it too.

"Boss Bot?" He mumbles, more asleep than awake, and Starscream's free servo nudges his shoulder to bring him back to the situation at hand.

Slowly, and a bit uncomfortable, he moves his servo over the younger's back in a caress.

Cheetor's optics darken again, his whole frame relaxing as he presses a bit against the petting hand.

He doesn't know how long it takes, but he doesn't stop his slow caresses until the Maximal is completely relaxed and deep in recharge, and only when he lifts his servo for the last time does Starscream release his wrist, the tingling in his arm disappearing slowly as it extends to the rest of his… well, what looks like his frame.

"You say I'm able of doing this too?" He asks softly, as if his voice could awake the young mech despite it not being audible anymore for the living.

"With some practice, sure." The Decepticon answers nonchalantly, getting off the berth and walking to the door. "Come now, let's see what the rest are doing."

"Wha—wait!" He calls, uncaring about keeping his voice low as he rushes through the door after the Flier. "Why do you want to check on the rest of Maximals? Surely that's not of your interest."

The look Starscream gives him can only be described as _duh_.

Which is a sure sign that he's spent too much time around Primal's crew if that's the only thing to cross his processor.

"I'm a _ghost_. What else is there to do than observe the living? It's not as if I can just do whatever I want anymore."

And… well, yes, that merits a _duh_ look.

"But you _can_ interact with our surroundings." He points out, following regardless of anything, as they walk towards the bridge.

"Does that mean you want me messing with your computers?"

"No!" The Decepticon smirks, and Dinobot growls, realizing the situation. "I'd rather you just observe."

"I knew there was a functioning processor deep in there."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Alright, people, I have a question: What should I do now? I mean, I'm not sure if I should show the rest of the 'tour' (meaning Optimus, Rhinox and Silverbolt) or time-jump and have it be mentioned as if in a memory, over in a couple of paragraphs. Plus, do you want to have them go take a peak at the Predacons? I know what I want next, but I have a gap that I need to fill... unless you don't mind the rest coming up as simple scenes, not following a linear timeline?

Starscream's answer to being called a traitor is from IDW's _Robots in Disguise_ (I swear I squealed when I read it the first time. It's the written expression of my HC. Needless to say, it took me a couple more times to actually believe I hadn't imagined it).


	8. More Than Meets the Eye II

**Story:** More than Meets the Eye

**Chapter title:** Explanations

**Continuity:** _G1_ AU Beastformers_  
><em>

**Summary:** Many millions of years ago, on the planet Cybertron, life existed. But not as we know it. Intelligent robots that could think and feel inhabited the cities, mechanical beings able to transform. But then, a war began, and it has come to Earth. What are humans to do in this conflict among titans? "Don't you think you're exaggerating? They're just cute tiny puppies!"

**Warnings:** Lots and lots of breeds and species as the alt modes are finally identified.

* * *

><p>Against all belief, the ride isn't all that unpleasant.<p>

It's weird, since Spike has never ride a horse, and that seems to be the closest experience to riding a _dog_, but it isn't that bad.

Though he suspects it's also because his ride, Trailbreaker, is big enough to accommodate the human on its back, with enough fur for the boy to grab, and doesn't snap every time the teenager tugs a bit too hard on his improvised reins.

And because they're _fast_.

Trailbreaker may have said it was of the slowest of the group, but Spike still needs to lie close to the dog's neck to avoid as much of the whipping wind as possible.

It's like riding a convertible, the desert slipping past them so fast that the human barely distinguishes anything besides reddish rocks and sand.

Slowly, green and brown start to fill their surroundings, and it isn't too long after they're in the forest that they slow down.

Curious, Spike straightens, and feels his mouth fall open.

There's a large mountain in front of them, but what really has the boy's attention is the structure jutting out of its side, some kind of gigantic cup-like structures one next to the other, like cannons…

Or spaceship engines.

And there, patiently waiting under them and not-blocking the large cave-like entrance, is yet another dog.

This one is mostly white, with the chest, stomach and lower front legs black, though the toes are white, reddish ears prickled forward attentively and forehead slightly wrinkled, which, along the half-lidded blue eyes, makes it look as if it's frowning disapprovingly.

The short-haired Border Collie, who'd been trotting at Trailbreaker's side until now, steps forward with its tail wagging happily, yipping a greeting to the other.

The unknown dog just spares him a look before turning his whole attention to the Great Dane, who has stopped to allow the human on his back to get down, as Spike's ride is also doing.

"Prowl." The gray-blue dog speaks with a small nod, standing calmly next to the confused and slightly wary Witwicky as the teenager joins them.

"Stay low, we do not want to attract unwanted attention. We will go, stop the Decepticons, and come back, do not mingle with the native species. Who was it that said that?" The black and white canine deadpans, but, even though the other dogs lower their ears, heads or both, chastised, the Great Dane stands tall and calm.

"The circumstances were not what we expected."

"Are they ever." The unknown robot lets out with a small snarl, looking away, before standing up. "So, who are they?"

"I'm William Witwicky, and this is my son, Spike." The older man answers, realizing they haven't introduced themselves yet. "We were in the refinery those others robots attacked, and your… uh, friends, saved us."

"Let us go inside. We need to update our files with the new data we have collected, and I am sure our companions will not mind helping us understand more of their world." The Great Dane adds calmly, and the mostly white dog lowers its head.

"Yes, Prime."

When the canines walk inside the opening under the engines, the humans follow.

And Spike's mouth falls open again when he sees what looks like a plane's hatch already open to reveal a brightly illuminated orange interior.

What surprises him most, though, is that despite the ship being at an angle from when it seemingly crashed into the mountain, the boy can walk as if it was plainly horizontal.

"Artificial gravity." Trailbreaker explains at the teenager's surprised look, walking by his side as the boy gets used to the feeling. "The _Ark_ may be damaged, but the basic systems are still working."

"Is that the name of the ship? _Ark_?"

"Yes. Well, it's the best name in your language that approximates its original."

"How about yours?"

"Best approximations too." A new voice answers, and Spike turns to the other side to see the dog walking by his father, a long-haired white-gray dog with some brown red strands on its shoulders and chest, blue eyes shining brightly from amidst the fur. "I'm Wheeljack, by the way."

"Nice to meet you. What are you? You look familiar." The teenager asks, trying to put a name to the breed of the white dog.

"A Bearded Collie. Though I'm glad I didn't get to be one of your 'pet' models. That is way too much fur." And even though the name doesn't really ring any bells, the last comment does, as an image of a really long-haired dark gray and white dog with almost all of its fur reaching the ground pops into his brain.

He can't help but nod in agreement as he looks at Wheeljack, the hair being long but not curtain-like, with that covering its middle not reaching even half of the legs.

"And you?" He asks once more, turning to Trailbreaker.

"Bernese Mountain Dog."

"I have no idea what those are." Both canines snicker softly, sounding more like sneezes and snorts.

"We'll show you some pictures later."

And they walk into the bridge.

Alien spaceship or not, Spike has seen enough TV to know what the large room with the enormous screens and lots of machines is, but actually being in it makes him turn his head around in awe.

There are some robots already there, none of them looking furry but still obviously able to transform into dogs too.

It's quite easy to know, since they keep some of the animal features.

Like the small white and yellow one approaching them, looking curious and with dropping dog ears on its head.

"I thought we weren't supposed to establish contact with the natives?" It asks, head tilting, and the Great Dane transforms.

Now that his life isn't in danger, Spike takes the time to observe the process.

It's amazingly simple to be such a complex change.

The dog pushes onto its back legs, the toes of the front paws elongating and thinning into claw-tipped fingers, tail being pulled up before unfurling and pressing against the back in some kind of extra layer, shoulders pulling back to a more maneuverable position for a bipedal creature, and snout opening in half vertically to slide to the sides of the head, sharp teeth bared and pressed together in some kind of mask, while the pointy ears stay in place and the pupils in shiny blue eyes vanish.

And, last but not least, all of the fur on its body presses against the skin and seems to melt, to the point it's impossible to make out the individual hairs, the coat having turned into a sheet of metal.

And, just like that, the dog has turned into a robot.

"Amazing…" He whispers, watching the black and white that had been waiting for them also transform, though this time its muzzle slides completely out of the way, nothing covering the serious set of its mouth, and its ears angle into something that looks like a V-shaped crest on its forehead, while a big part of its shoulders and upper back rearrange into two lifted wing-like panes, its curly black tail unfurling like the Great Dane's to fill some of the space vacated on its back, but not enough to make it look as burly as the larger robot, leaving it more slender and agile-looking instead.

The short-haired Border Collie changes too, keeping its folded ears and its face uncovered, but the band of 'skin' between its eyes pulls up, leaving a white line on its otherwise black head and turning its eyes into a visor.

The rest of their group also transform, some keeping their ears, others having them angled like the white and black robot or moved to the sides in a more humanoid position, a couple of the smaller dogs having some of their neck and upper back arranged into a frill-like structure or like a pharaoh's headwear, Trailbreaker's eyes turning into a visor and Wheeljack's teeth conforming a mask like the Great Dane's while its long ears move to the sides of its head and stand horizontally, curving back slightly in a scarf-like look that makes it hard for Spike to keep himself from laughing.

"We could not leave them in the attacked facilities, for they would have been in danger. It was our responsibility to get them to safety, and we owed them an explanation after that."

"And we can help." The teenager adds, nervous at having a lot of blue eyes and visors suddenly on him. "I mean, you're aliens, so we can explain some things about Earth."

"What does the ground have to do with anything?" The red Pit Bull-like robot growls, crossing its arms against its strong chest.

For a moment, the boy can only look at it in confusion, but he quickly laughs softly when he understands what the other is asking.

"No, not the ground. Our planet. We call it Earth." And more than one face lights up in realization, to the teenager's amusement.

"That makes more sense." It muses out loud, uncrossing his arms and approaching them calmly. "I'm Ironhide, Weapons Specialist." And without waiting for an answer, he turns to the Great Dane. "Shouldn't we be updating our data?"

"I'll take care of that." The short-haired Border Collie answers instead, a cheerful smile on its face as it turns to the monitors. "Why don't you get our new friends up to date?"

"Agreed." The other black and white robot adds with a small nod, turning to the humans with piercing pupil-less blue eyes that make Spike want to take a step back. "I am Prowl, Second in Command and Head Tactician of the Autobots."

"Autobots?" Sparkplug repeats, turning to the gray-blue and red masked alien, who looks kind despite the teeth hiding his lower face.

"As I said before, we come from the planet Cybertron. Unfortunately, our home world is at war at the moment, a conflict between us, Autobots, and the Decepticons, the ones to attack your workplace. Our planet has been ravaged by the innumerable battles, our energy sources drained to the point of almost complete depletion, so I assembled a group of my best mechs and departed to search for new sources. Megatron and his Elite followed us, and in the middle of a battle between our crews, we lost control of the _Ark_ and crashed here. We were all pushed into stasis lock until about fifteen of your solar cycles, when the seismic activity of the volcano energized our ship and allowed its emergency repair systems to bring us back online, as well as provide our new alt modes in the image of some of the native species to allow us to blend in."

Father and son exchange incredulous looks, trying to absorb everything they've been told about.

They're aliens in the middle of a civil war.

Their planet is so badly damaged that they had to take to space to find energy sources.

They were attacked and crashed to Earth who knows how long ago, for Spike can't remember anything about a meteor crashing into the desert.

They're in an active volcano, which makes the teenager flash back to the news he _has_ heard about, and most recently at that, about such a phenomena.

They are robots that transform into animals, not the other way around.

"And who are you?" Sparkplug asks after a moment, looking questioningly at the Great Dane.

Despite having no visible mouth, the boy knows he's smiling at them, eyes softening to a slightly darker blue.

"I am Optimus Prime, leader of the Autobots."

"Why are you at war?" Spike asks, and the gray-blue and red robot sobers, what's visible of its expression turning almost sad.

"Megatron, the leader of the Decepticons, wanted to change our governing system. While I agree that a change was needed, for our leaders had become corrupt, Megatron took the path of violence to accomplish it, and he amassed a rebel force capable of such a feat. However, he became power hungry, taking to conquest instead of settling for peace. We, Autobots, fight to stop him, for freedom is the right of all sentient beings, no matter our differences." The rest of robots nod, some more visibly enthusiastic than others, but all of them with eyes flowing with determination.

"Does that mean he'll try to conquer Earth?"

"I believe he is trying to return to Cybertron, but your planet is rich in energy sources. If he manages to reunite with the forces he left behind, he may very well return to seize them."

"Then, we'll help." Sparkplug answers, and Spike nods in agreement. "No one messes with Earth."

"You have our gratitude." Optimus tells them, smiling with his eyes once more.

"Prime, I have everything ready." The short-haired Border Collie calls from where he's sitting in front of the main computer, curling a cable back into a compartment in his forearm.

"Show us."

The screen comes to life with some clicking, showing images of each and every one of the Decepticons that attacked the refinery.

"Alright. First, we have Megatron over here." The image of the gunmetal gray tiger is pulled up, next to one of the same being in his robot form. "Alt mode is a South Chinese Tiger of the 'Maltese' model. Seems his fusion cannon is connected to his main fuel intake when in alt mode." A short video pops up, depicting the tiger shooting purple energy from his mouth. "Next, Starscream." Images of the white-gray eagle with the red front and black head, both in animal and robot form, replace those of the tiger. "Peregrine Falcon. Full use of his null-rays in root mode, but no data of whether he can use them in alt too. Then, we have Soundwave." The coyote appears next, also in both forms. "Ethiopian Wolf. Only confirmed data is his ability to synthesize Energon cubes. Thundercracker and Skywarp." The largest, brown eagle pops up first, followed by the smaller and purplish-black one. "Golden Eagle and Gyrfalcon. Sigma Abilities have yet to be confirmed, but they still pack a punch." The dog robot grimaces and rubs a shoulder before clicking some more, the owl, mockingbird and the two weasels appearing next, though only in their animal modes. "Laserbeak, Buzzsaw, Frenzy and Rumble. Respectively, Elf Owl, Loggerhead Shrike and Least Weasels." He explains, pointing at each of them at their names, with the dark reddish Weasel identified as Frenzy and the grayish one as Rumble. "No data of root mode or secondary alt modes. And that's all that showed up. We're missing the Reflector Gestalt, so the most likely conclusion is that they stayed behind at their hidey-hole."

"Most likely to continue building." Another Autobot supplies, greenish-gray in color and with pointy ears on the sides of his head. "And since they took Energon, they're most likely almost done."

"That is what I suspect too, Hound. We must stay alert. The Decepticons will try to retrieve more energy, which means more attacks to humans. We cannot allow them to accomplish their goals. This war ends here."

All robots nod in agreement once more and, with a gesture, they all separate to return to their duties.

"Hey guys." Spike turns around, only to have to look further down than any other time before, seeing how the white and yellow robot smiling up at him is smaller than the others. "I'm Bumblebee. Nice to meet you."

Uncomfortable at the height difference, Spike kneels down to be able to be eye to eye with the Autobot.

"I'm Spike. Nice to meet you too. Say, what do you turn into?"

"A Beagle. Want to see?"

"Sure!" So, following the inverse process of turning into a robot, the teenager finds himself with a white and yellow Beagle in front of him in barely five seconds. "Man, that is _so cool_…"

"That's nothing. It's just the way we are. What's cool is you guys! You naturally change sizes and shapes with the passing of time!" Confused, the boy stares at the happy dog, tail wagging almost madly as he lets his tongue loll out of his mouth.

"You mean growing up? That's just how life is." He explains simply, amused at the awe in those blue eyes. "Hey, think you can help me? I still don't know everyone, and I'd like to learn what you guys turn into."

"Sure thing. Though you'd better be ready to take notes."

Half an hour later, Spike is glad he had his small notebook and pen on him, and that he took Bumblebee's words seriously and wrote a chart.

His father is inside the ship, chatting with Wheeljack, who is some kind of inventor, but the teenager has enough in his head to add alien technobabble to it, so he's outside, relaxing on the side of the now dormant volcano with the soft breeze, going over his notes again.

"Optimus Prime is a Great Dane and the leader of the Autobots. Prowl is a Basenji and the Second in Command, as well as the Head Tactician, and Jazz is a McNab, not a Border Collie, and Third in Command and Head of Special Operations. Then, Ironhide, Argentine Dogo and Weapons Specialst, and Ratchet, Staffordshire Bull Terrier and Chief Medical Officer." He recites out loud as he writes a side note of getting a better chart to add pictures of the Autobots next to the names. "There's also Trailbreaker, Wheeljack and Bumblebee, Bernese Mountain Dog, Bearded Collie and Beagle. Hound is the tracker, and a Norwegian Elkhound." He snickers a bit at that before going back to the chart. "Then the twins, Sideswipe and Sunstreaker. They're both Mudi, with Sideswipe being the red one and Sunstreaker the golden. Not too hard to see who is who, luckily. They're the only two that share the same breed. Now, the Minibots, like Bumblebee…" He looks for the 'M' in brackets next to the names, and scrunches his nose as he tries to remember who was who. "Cliffjumper is the Aff… Affenpinscher. The red one whose head looks like a furball." He writes it next to the name, snickering some more. "Huffer is the French Bulldog, and Gears is the Lancashire Heeler. Pointy-eared Sausage Dog." He scribbles it down too, before looking at the next name. "Bluestreak is the one like Prowl, with the wing things, and he's a Welsh Springer Spaniel. And Windcharger is the Italian Greyhound. Oh, and there's Mirage too. An Austrian Black and Tan Hound. Bumblebee said he had some cool tricks I'd like."

"Did you say Bumblebee?" Startled at the new voice, Spike jumps upright so quickly that he wobbles a bit on his feet, though easily regaining his balance and turning around.

No one.

"Hello?"

"Down here." His head whips to the rock next to the one he was sitting on, and it's only when the newcomer blinks that he sees it.

Crouching in the shadow cast by the sun is a yellow-eyed black cat.

Who is obviously _not_ a cat, since it can speak.

"My apologies, I didn't mean to startle you." It—no, _he_ adds, ears pressing against his head. "It's just that I heard you talking and… what is your relationship with the Autobots?" The teenager kneels down, surprised at seeing how small the cat really is, even more than the Minibots.

From his new angle, he can see slightly darker spots on lines on his back, as well as four stripes on his head, the thick yet not bushy tail curled around himself, and the almost silvery fur covering the lower legs.

"I'm a friend. My dad and I will help them defeat the Decepticons." The feline perks up at that.

"Really? You don't have to."

"But we want to. Are you an Autobot too?" The cat nods.

"I'm a scout. I was sent to map our surroundings but…" Ears lower as the feline lowers his head in… embarrassment. "This is so humiliating… I'm supposed to be the best, but I'm not used to organic planets. One of the rocks broke under my pedes and my leg got damaged. And I also hit my head, which deactivated my communications array, so I couldn't ask for help, but…" Tentatively, the cat looks up from where he's been glaring at his right back leg, which is curled close to the body but not resting on the ground. "Do you… I mean, would you…"

"I can carry you back to the _Ark_." He supplies, and the cat immediately perks up again.

"Oh, thank you! But… can I ask another favor?" Spike nods, watching the feline fidget nervously again. "I'd rather the others don't see me like this. It's so embarrassing!" The boy chuckles softly, and barely restrains himself from petting the cat, reminding himself that it's not really an animal.

"No problem. I think I should be able to find the Med Bay with what they've shown me."

"Actually, I'd like to go to the bridge first. I have to download my report, and I can call Ratchet from there once I'm done. This way you don't have to go carrying me around." The cat explains, slowly pushing his embarrassment away.

"Are you sure?" The feline nods, so the teenager reaches for him. "Alright then. Tell me if it hurts." Once in his arms, the cat moves a bit to a more comfortable position, right back leg hanging from the human's arm. "What's your name?"

"Ravage. Yours?"

"Spike Witwicky. But call me just Spike, Witwicky is a surname, a kind of title." He answers, snickering when he remembers Bumblebee's confusion as he told him 'Spikewitwicky' isn't his real name.

"Alright. Thank you for helping me out, Spike."

"My pleasure."

The rest of the walk is silent and, fortunately for the injured feline, they don't find anyone neither in the corridors nor the bridge itself, the rest of Autobots too busy repairing the ship or planning for the Decepticons' next move someplace else.

Carefully, the boy rests the cat on the console, and watches him hop to some ports.

"Ravage?" The feline turns to him, wide eyes filled with curiosity. "All the other Autobots are dogs. Why are you a cat?" The robot purrs in amusement.

"Because that's what better adapts to my Cybertronian frame. Plus, it helps me with my job. I'm a scout and a spy, and cats are supposed to be more silent than dogs." Spike nods at that, smiling with amusement. "You can go now, I'll take care of my report and call Ratchet. Oh, and…"

"I'm not telling anyone, don't worry." He finishes, smile widening at the relief obvious in the feline's body and eyes.

"Thanks Spike."

"Any time, Ravage."

And with those last words, the teenager walks out, leaving the scout to his work as he tries to remember how to get to where Bumblebee said he was going to be, taking out his notebook to add the cat to the chart.

Funny, why did the Autobots forget to mention him?

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> And here we are, almost all characters introduced and identified. Their beast/alt modes are the ones I think fit them best, but feel free to criticise and/or suggest others. After all, I don't know everything, there may be others that are better.

Yes, the 'Reflector components' are a Gestalt in my HC. And while that doesn't mean anything other than giving their 'three-in-one' transformation a name when they're ordinary Cybertronian, Gestalts are much different in this Beastformers universe.

Also, Ravage is a Rusty-Spotted Cat.

I still have another scene I want to write, being the one immediately following it, and I may or may not finish the 'More Than Meets the Eye' cartoon episodes. I think I may write about the mine, but I'm not sure about the hidroelectric plant. The _Victory_'s first (and only) flight it's in the 'maybe' category too. However, that's all I have, and I'm not sure I'm going to write all of it, so feel free to ask for episodes/scenes/different POVs, your words usually give me even more ideas!


	9. Mirror Mirror III

**Story:** Mirror Mirror

**Chapter title:** Playing with Bugs

**Continuity:** _Transformers: Prime_, after _Predacons Rising_

**Summary:** 'Your dead shall live; their bodies shall rise. You who dwell in the dust, awake and sing for joy! For your dew is a dew of light, and the earth will give birth to the dead.' Or so human literature said. However, when things become a bit too literal, how are the Autobots, plus Knockout, going to answer? And what if those dead weren't their own?

**Warnings:** Some SG/Canon characters interaction and more introductions.

* * *

><p>When Wheeljack and Bulkhead get back to the <em>Nemesis<em> they are met with a really stunning sight.

Smokescreen is arguing with two Seekers in the middle of a hallway.

The Fliers are like Starscream in size and main design, but there are some variations, like the shorter claws, the slightly higher positioned cockpit and the helm.

Really well known helms with identical faceplates.

In fact, both Seekers are mirror images of each other, with only the color schemes to distinguish them.

One is a brownish-green tone with a sandy faceplate and accents in reddish-brown, while the other is gray-blue with a grayish faceplate and silvery accents.

Both their optics are blue.

"—the Phase Shifter, I'm telling you!" Smokescreen exclaims with a cutting gesture.

"No way! That's for clumsy mechs that can't maneuver!" The bluish one answers with a scowl, crossing his arms against his cockpit, and, despite his voice being slightly higher-pitched, they recognize him.

Dreadwing.

Which means the other is—

"The Polarity Gauntlet is it!" The greenish Seeker adds haughtily, straightening proudly.

Skyquake.

"Well, Doc let you out, huh?" Wheeljack asks cockily, approaching with a smile, and the Seekers tense for an instant before relaxing.

"Yeah, our frames are finally as they should, so they discharged us."

"I think we were starting to annoy them."

"Seeing how easy it is to do so, you won't get a commendation." The white Wrecker answers, and both Seekers snort. "Going to the Rec Room?"

"Why not?" The twins say in unison, following them with Smokescreen falling in step at their side.

"What were you talking about?" Bulkhead finally asks, curious, and three pairs of blue optics and almost identical smirks land on him.

"About the most useful Relic!" All three answer in unison, and Wheeljack laughs.

"And you were saying the Phase Shifter and the Polarity Gauntlet? Please, the best is the Resonance Blaster."

"You only say that because Soundwave beat you with it." Bulkhead adds with a snort, punching the smaller mech.

"Doesn't mean it's not the best."

"_Soundwave_ beat _you_?" The Seekers exclaim in unison, looking stunned.

"_Our_ Soundwave. Damn crafty mech, for not being an active fighter for so long. When was the last time you saw him on a battlefield?" Wheeljack asks the other Wrecker, and Bulkhead has to think long and hard to remember.

"All he did on Earth was infiltration and hacking… and a couple of retrievals, but the only battle he was in was against you… So I believe the last time he was actively fighting was in Cybertron." He finally answers, shrugging, and two pairs of awestruck optics turn to the green mech.

"Your Soundwave is a warrior?"

"He's the Communications Officer and a spy, mostly. But he was a gladiator before the War started, and it shows." The white Wrecker grumbles, rubbing his chest plates at some unpleasant memory.

The twins break down laughing.

Surprised, the Autobots stop in the middle of the hallway.

"Soundwave, a _gladiator_?"

"That's hilarious!"

"Well, yours is an opposite universe. It wouldn't surprise me if your Megatron was an archivist." Smokescreen finally manages to say, a sarcastic smile on his faceplates, and the Seekers sputter.

"Have you gone binary?!" They exclaim in unison, gesturing wildly towards the Doorwinger. "Megatron was the best gladiator Cybertron has ever seen!"

"Was?" A voice asks from further ahead, and they all turn to see Knockout in the threshold to the Rec Room.

"Well, he's not a gladiator anymore." Skyquake answers more calmly, walking up to the medic with his twin by his side and the others following.

"He's the Supreme Commander of the Decepticons now." Dreadwing adds with pride, wings fluttering alongside his brother's.

As soon as they enter the Rec Room, a loud and ululating war cry receives them along the image of an enormous soft purple-marked black frame jumping to them—

And a squeak as a smaller silver being jumps between the attacking Insecticon and the Autobots standing out of the line of fire, hidden by the walls while still standing next to the open door.

"—not those we know, Hardshell! Calm down, that's it, take it easy." The voice is still weird, but no longer unknown, so, forcing themselves to deactivate their weapons and allowing the Seekers and the red medic to be the first to go inside, Bulkhead and Wheeljack follow and stop in astonishment.

The slouched enormous frame is evidently an Insecticon, and, despite the different color scheme, the now bright yellow markings identify him as Hardshell.

Though the real surprise is seeing the mech soothing the other down.

The only difference from before is that the color scheme has gone from black with purple highlights to white with pale blue accents, but the Flier seems a completely different being.

Who could have thought a change in coloring would have made the threatening Soundwave look… innocent? Bubbly? … Cute?

"Not the same. Not the same." The Insecticon repeats, voice still rough and raspy, but much calmer than before. "Autobots like Decepticons. Not the same."

"That's right, big buddy. They're nice in this universe." The Communications Officer answers back, chirpily, before turning to the mechs on the threshold. "And the Decepticons are nice too! Well, the only one we've met so far is Knockout, but he's like our Knockout! Only, he's more like Breakdown in that he likes polishing and detailing more than fighting. Can you imagine that? A Knockout that doesn't like fighting!"

"Excuse me, but _Knockout_ is right here." The medic interrupts the cheerful rant with a scowl, crossing his arms against his chassis.

"I didn't say you weren't." The Autobots, plus the Seekers, laugh at the innocent response, while the Insecticon cocks his head, analyzing them.

"I don't… don't really remember the medic. Where's Forefemme? And Commander? And Leader?" And while the Wreckers look at the confused red Decepticon, searching for an explanation, the alternates deflate.

"They're missing. They will come, but we have no way of knowing beforeservo if they are those we know, or the ones from this universe." Skyquake answers almost angrily, wings trembling in what can either be rage or fear, despite his scowl.

"Then, who is Leader?"

"_Magnus_ is leader." They all turn to the door at that, finding Cliffjumper there with a grimace on his now paler faceplate, contrasting sharply with his darker color scheme and his ruby optics. "Apparently, this one is actually _competent_."

"So you keep saying." The Autobot Commander himself adds with what the Wreckers recognize as tiredness, following the red alternate inside.

"Not the same. Autobots like Decepticons. Not the same." Hardshell mutters, now blue visor dimmed as he tries not to focus on the newcomers.

Soundwave steps back uneasily.

"Actually, big buddy? Cliffjumper _is_ the one of our universe." The Insecticon's war cry fills the room after that, but, fortunately, the two Seekers throwing themselves at him are enough to stop the larger mech.

Not that the red Autobot hasn't taken measures, as shown by him being pushed out from behind Ultra Magnus' back.

"What the Pit were you trying to do?! I'm unarmed! That irritating medic of yours had my weapons removed! And I've been behaving!" He shrieks hysterically, looking pleadingly at Knockout as he utters that last sentence. "Magnus has been keeping me around all this time, he can tell you!"

Wheeljack snickers at the cowardly rant, but Bulkhead takes a step back, disturbed, unable to believe the hotheaded frontliner he once knew and this one are supposed to be the same in some sense.

"Mute it, you annoying scrap-heap. You're worse than Starscream." The medic scowls, rubbing an audial in a human gesture of contempt.

All alternates freeze to the point not even the squeaking of the smallest gear can be heard.

"Worse than whom?" The twins snarl, and despite their cool blue color, their optics look positively murderous.

"Starscream. The one from this universe, of course, I would never presume to know yours, or assume anything about him." The red Decepticon quickly answers with a nervous grin that tries to be charming, but the darkness surrounding the Seekers only seems to thicken.

"Don't you dare say anything bad about Starscream. _Ever_." The hissing metallic voice that responds, though, doesn't come from the twins, but from—

Soundwave.

White and blue and bubbly Soundwave, now holding himself with a kind of calm tension that is all too reminiscent of the Communications Officer the Wreckers once knew, and which makes them wish they were already armed.

Knockout, however, is the most terrified of them all.

"Y-Yes, of course. My apologies." He manages to stutter out, servos raised as if to repel a hit as he takes a step away—

And jumps along all the other Decepticons, wide optics exchanging hopeful and startled looks.

"Would your—"

"No, never." Knockout cuts Dreadwing, and the alternates smile widely before the medic scowls. "Unless…" Once more, every mech turns to him expectantly as his optics darken. "Unless it was a trap."

"What trap?" Smokescreen asks, confused, and the red 'Con shudders.

"We just got an emergency beacon. From _Airachnid_."

"Oh." Bulkhead lets out after a second of silence, rubbing his helm.

The sound of tires screeching makes them all look at the door, where a sandy armored car takes an almost U-turn before transforming, stumbling as he enters with a dreadful yet hopeful wide optic.

"Did you receive that? Is that our Airachnid?!" Breakdown asks quickly, stopping in front of a wary Knockout.

"I have no idea." The medic answers, grimacing at the worried look on the Wrecker's faceplate. "Ours would never send such a signal unless it was to trap us, and yours…"

"She would only send it if she _really_ needed our help. We have to go!" The lone green optic turns to Ultra Magnus with a fierceness not seen since they first met, but the Commander remains still and silent.

"I agree." He finally answers, and the Decepticon alternates exchange happy looks. "Regardless of the origin of this Airachnid, we must deal with the situation. To offer shelter in case she is not ours… or to capture her is she proves to be the one from this universe."

"I'd rather we _offline_ that femme, if she's the one from here." Bulkhead scoffs, Wheeljack agreeing with a crooked and dark grin.

"Same here." Knockout adds with a nod and threatening seriousness.

Confused, the alternates turn to one another, before Dreadwing's wings perk.

"Oh, right! You said your Airachnid was like our Arcee!" Cliffjumper immediately steps away with a yelp while Skyquake shudders.

"Aw, slag." The green Flier whispers with a grimace.

"Hardshell and Breakdown stay." Knockout's commanding tone makes everymech look at him, before the sandy Wrecker bristles.

"What?!"

"You're staying here." The medic repeats seriously, meeting the blazing green optic without a hint of fear. "The Airachnid I know deactivated my partner. I'm not letting her do so again."

The twins exchange fearful and dumbstruck looks, as do Bulkhead, Wheeljack and Smokescreen, but Breakdown stays firm—

For all of two nanokliks.

He looks lost and worried, but, finally, he just nods.

Still standing strong and firm, Knockout nods back and turns to Ultra Magnus.

"Very well. Let's move out. I will need the coordinates of—"

"I have them." Soundwave interrupts, dactyls fiddling as all optics turn to him. "Airachnid's coordinates and the Space Bridge codes. I can just…" He gestures behind himself, towards the empty room—

And they all realize that, if their Soundwave could open a Ground Bridge anywhere, this one also can.

"Get ready, soldiers." Ultra Magnus orders, stepping toward the empty space. "We don't know what we're going to find once there, so be prepared for anything."

A bunch of 'yes, sir' answer him, and, without needing an order, a swirling green vortex springs to life.

Weapons ready, the Wreckers follow their Commander inside.

"If you will excuse me, I suggest letting me go first." Knockout's voice echoes softly in the dark tunnels they find themselves in, and, after a nanoklik to observe the nervous though determined Medic, Ultra Magnus gestures for him to step forward. "Just, don't be too far." He adds quietly, optics darting everywhere even as he turns on his alt mode's lights.

The tunnels are old, that much they can tell from the faded claw-like marks on the walls and the amount of dirt on them, but, to their astonishment, they're metallic.

"Are we on Cybertron?" Wheeljack whispers, swords in hand.

"_On Luna 1, actually._" Soundwave's cheery voice answers through their comm., and the white Wrecker tenses.

"Mech, that's creepy."

"_It's my job._" The Communications Officer sounds even more cheerful than before, and, after receiving a glare from Ultra Magnus, the sword-wielder refrains from answering.

Slowly, they walk further down the tunnel, and it's obvious Knockout is double and triple checking his decision to walk at the front with every new step.

But when a sound comes, it's not from the front—but from behind.

"Airachnid!"

Wheeljack whirls around just in time to press a sword against one of the Seeker twins' throat, both of them freezing as they round the corner.

"Mute it, you little devils!" He hisses, tilting the blade upwards—

A pale glob of something sticky throws the weapon to the ground before a dark shape jumps between the two Wreckers, a sharp hit to their legs sending them to the floor as sticky sheet-like things immobilize them, Ultra Magnus grunting as he, too, is taken out—

"What are you waiting for, run!" A well-known voice with a completely strange tone shouts, and when Bulkhead's optics focus again, he sees Airachnid standing before the twins, worry and relief on her faceplate.

Wait, what?

"Well, I'll be slagged." Knockout lets out from somewhere further ahead, out of the green mech's sight, and the femme whirls around to him—

And tenses, the legs on her back snapping open—

"Whoa, easy! It's me, Knockout! Just, not the one you know."

"He's from a different universe, Nid!"

"Yeah, they all are!"

"In fact, we're the ones in _their_ universe!"

"An opposite universe!" The Seekers end in unison and, not as confused as the Wrecker, the femme glares at the immobilized Autobots.

"That's Bulkhead."

"Why do you all keep saying that?" He asks tiredly, slumping in his cocoon of sticky webs, far more at ease now that he knows the one in front of them is not the same Energon-thirsty femme he knew.

"Because MECH captured, deactivated and used your frame as a shell for their leader." One of the twins answers, and he knows Knockout is shivering too because the lights tremble.

"Or, well, that's what we think happened." The other Seeker, Dreadwing, adds with a sheepish shrug, and Airachnid sways in place, suddenly looking a lot smaller than the other two Fliers despite having been a head shorter all the time. "Nid?"

"I'm fine." She answers curtly, glaring at where he thinks Knockout is. "You said this is an opposite universe?"

"Not _that_ opposite." Skyquake answers quickly, resting his servos on her shoulders. "He's more like Breakdown than Knockout."

"Yup, he doesn't like fighting, and is obsessed with aesthetics."

"Obsessed might be exaggerating a bit. I just care about finesse and detailing." The red Decepticon purrs, and, strange as it is, the femme looks slightly exasperated and… fond?

"Who else is here?" She asks, not lowering her guard.

"Soundwave, Hardshell and Breakdown." And _that_ seems to catch her attention.

"Hardshell? There's a vault full of Insecticon chrysalis a ways forward, but I didn't dare awaken them…"

"He's a _real_ Insecticon." Dreadwing answers, bouncing in excitement.

"Yes, like they should be." His twin adds, as happy as the other Seeker.

"How about Breakdown?"

"He wanted to come, but Knockout said that it was better if he didn't."

"'Cause the Airachnid from here is like the Arcee from our universe, and since she had deactivated this universe's Breakdown—"

"She _what_?" The femme whirls around so quickly that she almost loses her footing, but the other two Fliers stabilize her quickly enough. "But—But that's—"

"That's what they told us." The twins answer in unison, and it takes the spider a couple of nanokliks to calm down again.

"How about Starscream and Megatron?" The Seekers shake their helms, and she grimaces. "Great. Leadership."

"There's… another of our universe." Dreadwing whispers, and Bulkhead can hear Wheeljack squirm in his restraints, cursing under his breath.

"Don't tell me. An Autobot." Nods. "Primus. Who is it?"

"Cliffjumper."

After a second of silence, Airachnid finally relaxes.

"Could have been worse. Are you sure these are… acceptable?" The Seekers nod once again, and she sags once more, as if having trouble standing still. "You can free them now. I'm… not going to do much of anything else."

"How are your Energon levels?" Knockout asks, approaching her at last, though, from what the Wrecker can see, far more unnerved than he himself is.

And seeing how Bulkhead is in a vulnerable position, literally stuck to the floor…

"Almost running on fumes." She answers softly, letting herself lean against the fidgety red Grounder. "Is my self from here so bad that you are terrified of an almost deactivated tiny femme?"

"That almost deactivated tiny femme has dealt with two Wreckers and the Autobot's Commander in just a couple of nanokliks." He answers with a nervous chuckle, and she smiles softly.

As out of place such a gesture is on Airachnid's faceplate, it suddenly doesn't seem so wrong, making her look… pretty.

After some more grumbling, the twins manage to get Bulkhead and Wheeljack free of the webs, and, with the white Wrecker's swords, getting Ultra Magnus off the wall is almost easy.

Though they'll be picking sticky webs off their plating for _orns_.

"Let's get out of here. We'll come back to check on the Insecticons once we've taken care of Airachnid." Their Commander orders and, literally having to carry the now stasis-locked femme, Knockout leads the way to where the Space Bridge was. "Soundwave, we are ready to return. Get us to Repair Bay, Airachnid will need assistance."

No sooner have those words been spoken, the swirling green vortex engulfs the corridor.

When they step into the Repair Bay, they are received by Ratchet and a nervous Breakdown, who would have thrown himself on Knockout and his burden if the older mech hadn't stopped him.

"Low Energon levels. She'll need a drip, at the least, but we should scan her too. She has Terrorcon marks." The red Grounder explains quickly, and his assistant almost flies through the room to get everything ready.

"Alright, you three. Come over here." Ratchet orders, and not even Ultra Magnus dares talk back, standing still as they let the Medic scan them. "Well, just scrapes. Knockout, do you have something to dissolve those webs?"

"Breakdown, storage room, third shelf on the right. You know what to look for." The sandy Grounder doubts for a nanoklik, but quickly walks away when the other doesn't even look up from his job of connecting the femme to the Energon drip.

"You really don't want him close." Ultra Magnus comments, watching the procedure calmly.

"He's compromised. If possible, a Medic should avoid treating someone they care for. Since it can be avoided this time…" He shrugs as answer, and Bulkhead exchanges a look with Wheeljack.

"Even if it is just installing a drip?"

"Even so."

"Here." The return of the sandy Wrecker quickly catches their attention, a large cube in his servos. "Mix a spoonful of this with solvent and spray yourselves with it. Wait a klik and wash away with abundant solvent."

"Why don't you help them with that? I'm sure they'll appreciate it." Knockout interrupts before the green Grounder can take the cube, and, slightly fearful, the other looks at the red Medic, now scanning the immobile femme. "I'll let you know as soon as she so much as twitches."

Relieved by that, Breakdown nods and gestures for the Wreckers to walk out of the room.

"So… what is going on between you and Airachnid?" Wheeljack asks as they reach the wash-racks, and the assistant medic squirms a bit under his knowing grin.

"Nothing! She's just a comrade. A friend." He answers maybe a bit too quickly, something that even Magnus notices, before he busies himself with the contents of the cube.

"A _really_ good friend."

"Yes. No! I mean—!" Letting out a tired sigh, Breakdown's horrified expression turns dejected. "Do you really have to do that?"

Wheeljack snickers.

"Don't be too bothered by him, Jackie likes to mess with everybody." Bulkhead decides to explain, feeling sorry for the slumped sandy Grounder.

Not looking too convinced, Breakdown decides to let it slide anyway, and turns around with a hose in servo.

"Alright. This is going to itch."

Understatement of the vorn.

Once they finally step out of the wash-racks after three thorough washes, even Ultra Magnus is still scratching at seams.

"You did that _on purpose_!" Wheeljack screeches, twisting almost madly to reach a hard spot in the middle of his back.

"I promise I didn't." The sandy Wrecker answers, though the small smirk on his faceplate tells that he's not disappointed with the result.

"Vindictive bastard!" The white Grounder hisses, resorting to rubbing his back against a corner.

Ultra Magnus walks faster, trying not to look at how relieved Wheeljack now feels.

Bulkhead just shrugs and joins his friend.

And if Smokescreen and Bumblebee's lower jaws end on the ground when they round the corner… well, slag happens.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> And we've got Airachnid, with the Seeker twins and Hardshell up and about. Also, please don't pay too much attention to the Airachnid x Breakdown thing, it's not going to be a main point of the story (unless you ask to see more of it, you all know I've got limited ideas about what I'm doing with this).

To be sincere, it wasn't going to happen. The problem is that, as I developed the characters, their universe, their experiences... it happened. Just like that. It was something that, taking into account what had happened and what the Decepticons had gone through, just _had to be_. So, my apologies to those that don't ship Breakdown x Airachnid. I promise it won't be more than a simple mention if/when I decide to go somewhere with this story, since I'm not a fan of this pairing either (no matter that I was the one to write it).

Nevertheless, feel free to ask about any drabble/missing scene/different POV you'd like to see, I'd be more than happy to try to write it. I have a couple more meetings I'd like to write, but that's all, so anything you can give me to keep writing and developing this is more than welcome (especially since I get ideas out of other ideas).


	10. Code of Ghost III

**Story:** Code of Ghost

**Chapter title:** Always Metal under Fur and Scales

**Continuity:** _Beast Wars_, begins at the end of episode 9 of season 2, _Code of Hero_

**Summary:** Once, a human writer said: 'Nothing can we call our own but death and that small model of the barren earth which serves as paste and cover to our bones.' And yet, when the time comes, there is neither for those who no longer live. So, what is a ghost to do?

**Synopsis:** The last of the day of Dinobot's death, and the beginning of a whole new life.

* * *

><p>Starscream gets easily bored after half an hour of watching Rhinox mess with the pieces of the disintegrator, once he's personally examined each and every part of it, something that Dinobot has to admit was quite bewildering.<p>

After all, isn't he the ruthless and treacherous Second in Command and Air Commander of the Decepticons? _Why_ does he have such interest in science and technology?

So, intrigued and more than a little stunned, the Predacon said nothing as the Flier rummaged around, Rhinox shivering every time the ghost went through him, but otherwise ignoring them.

As expected.

It was weird, to be in the engineer's workshop with the mech and not have anything to do.

Dinobot may not be the most educated of Cybertronian, but every now and then he found himself helping the rhinoceros by building or repairing.

After all, he was a construction bot before he joined Magmatron, as the Predacon leader called himself back then.

Fortunately, Starscream's boredom once he's taken a look at everything he wanted saves him from more discomfort.

He has to constantly remind himself he's dead, for it feels too much as if Rhinox is ignoring him otherwise.

Silverbolt is still in the bridge, having taken over monitor duty, though his gaze is lost in the middle distance.

Any other time, it would have been a problem, but the Predacons have suffered a defeat that will take them some more days to recuperate from.

Dinobot clings to that thought, if only to push away the annoyance and pain of knowing that no matter if he snarls at the Fuzor to pay attention to his duties, he won't be able to hear.

So, still following the Decepticon around to keep an optic on him and make sure he doesn't mess with anything, they find themselves once more in the corridor to the crew's private quarters.

"The Vermin's, full of garbage." The Predacon explains as a sky blue dactyl points to the doors. "Rhinox's. Never been in there." The Flier looks mildly interested at that, but walks past the room with just another glance.

"And this is the cat's and down there yours." The older ghost adds, pointing down the corridor. "Which means your captain's quarters must be around here."

"The door to your left. Satisfied? Can we go away now?" He grumbles, unwilling to spend any more time in such a familiar environment when he's no longer part of it.

It feels as if he had betrayed the Maximals all over again, only this time there's not even the smallest chance to make it up to them.

Except that there _may_ be one.

He just has to convince Starscream to teach him how to properly interact with their surroundings so that he can continue wagging battle against his former comrades.

_I wonder how they would react if I were to suddenly appear in front of them._

Smirking wickedly at his imaginings, he almost misses Starscream walking through the door to Optimus' quarters.

Almost.

With a brief flash of panic, he rushes to follow—

And slams against something as soon as he phases through the entrance.

"Watch it!" The Decepticon hisses, pushing the Predacon off of himself before getting to his pedes again.

"How…"

"We're _both_ ghosts. Of course we can interact with each other. So soon do you forget you _punched_ me?" The Flier sneers, turning away from him to look around the room.

Shaking his surprise off as he stands up, Dinobot follows his gaze.

The room is the same big and illuminated one as ever, sparsely yet richly adorned with rock samples, meticulously ordered encyclopedic datapads and pressed flora.

And a potted plant next to the berth that the Predacon is intimately acquainted with.

It has grown since he first put it in that same spot, the pot a bigger one than it was originally in to accommodate for its growth.

And it is definitely bigger than when it first attached itself to the back of his neck while still being a barbed seed.

He never told Optimus where he got it, simply because none of them ever acknowledged it or how it had gotten to the _Axalon_, but he has the feeling the Transmetal gorilla knows.

After all, it was _that_ specific plant that helped them deal with Megatron, if just because it gave the Maximal the idea and knowledge of a large reptile's blind spot.

As annoyed as Dinobot was, he has to admit he kind of warmed up to the slagging plant, just like he'd warmed up to the Vermin, and Rattrap is far more annoying.

Plus, he doesn't come up in a soothing combination of color like the weed's flowers do.

"I had almost expected a pet fish or turtle." Starscream muses out loud, examining the plant, not bothered at all by the mech resting on the berth.

"These Maximals were explorers before we crash-landed here. It took quite a while, for them to start concentrating on their surroundings instead of stopping to smell the flowers." The Predacon explains, and has to do a double-take at his own words.

Why did he tell the Decepticon _that_? It's none of his business!

"And still they never stopped."

But the Flier's smirk is amused in a non-threatening and non-insulting way, perhaps even a bit nostalgic, and Dinobot's annoyance and anger at having been possibly tricked evaporate.

How can this mech be so different from that possessed Waspinator they first met?

"Not really." He adds softly, also approaching to better see the plant…

And his Commanding Officer's face.

To his hidden relief, he looks calm in his light recharge, nothing like Cheetor's pained expression.

"Did they… stop after the valley?" He can feel the Decepticon looking at him, but he doesn't turn away from his examination of Optimus' face, obviously avoiding the other's gaze.

"No." His spark squirms painfully in his chest, echoes of numbness and sharp pinpricks extending to the rest of his frame. "They returned to the ship, prepared your disintegration, went through all the stupid ceremony and cleaned up. If they stopped, I didn't see it. And taking into account I was watching them at all times because you were still out of it—"

"What?" He interrupts, turning to the Flier, who scowls back at him.

"What what?"

"I was… 'out of it'?" He repeats, confused, and Starscream snorts condescendingly.

"You thought your spark was undamaged after leaving the frame? It had started to degrade even before your official deactivation, so I had to put it together before you managed to 'wake up'." He explains, adding quotation marks with his dactyls at the last two words. "Fortunately, it was just a matter of giving you a stable environment and energy source. As easy for me as keeping your fuel pump working was for you."

"You better not be expecting any thanks for that." He hisses, snarling at the darkly amused Decepticon.

"Wouldn't even dare think about it."

A soft groaning makes them immediately turn to the mech on the berth, optics flickering a bit as if not sure if he should stay in recharge or get out of it.

Unconsciously, Dinobot takes a step closer, into the Maximals line of sight.

"He can't see you."

It hurts.

It doesn't matter that it's the truth, or that there's no emotion in the high-pitched voice.

"But I can see him."

"Dinobot?"

Optics he hadn't realized he'd offlined flash to activation almost fast enough to disorient him, but it just ends with a clear sight of Optimus looking at the Predacon's chest, more in recharge than fully booted up.

Startled, the warrior almost takes a step back.

After rebooting his optics a couple of times, the Maximal looks away with a sigh.

"Just a dream…" He whispers tiredly, moving on the berth to try to get comfortable. "I wish everything _before_ that had been a dream too." And to Dinobot's shock, he turns around to stare at the raptor head mounted on his chest. "Oh, my friend… I am so sorry…"

"Not again." Starscream groans, but this time the Predacon just glares at him with sharp teeth bared in a warning.

"You gave so much to us, for the Maximals. And we just returned distrust and an ill-fated future." Optimus continues softly, almost talking to himself. "In a way, I'm glad things ended as they did for you. Not only was your death that of a true warrior and hero, but… I'm afraid your beliefs about the reaction of the Maximal Council may have been more accurate than any of us would like to think about." Optics going dark, the gorilla starts to relax into recharge. "Thanks for everything, Dinobot. I'll keep an eye on the others for both of us."

Systems start to wind down as the Transmetal finally enters recharge, and silence fills the room as the Predacon reviews his words once more.

"No, Optimus. I will continue watching over all of you. The Matrix knows you need that." He finally answers with a small smirk, despite it flying over Primal's head. "You're being awfully quiet."

"Do you want me to ruin the scene? Because, let me tell you, it won't be hard at all." The Flier answers, seemingly leaning against thin air, faceplate carefully arranged into disinterest.

"No. No, let it be."

"Why did he stare at the plant while talking to your supposedly gone spark?" Starscream asks curiously, and Dinobot finally turns around to see that the pot is approximately at chest height, which would explain Optimus' stare.

"It's a long story."

"We have time."

They stay in silence after that, the Predacon simply watching the plant as he reminisces.

"Let's just say it taught us both a lesson."

"You _do_ want me to make fun of your processing capabilities, don't you."

To Dinobot's own surprise, he answers with an amused snort.

"And what does it say of yours, who seek _my_ company?"

"That I'm a kind and selfless spark that wants you to at least be able to tell your helm from your aft when you rejoin the All Spark."

Silence.

And then, unheard laughter fills the room.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> That... was interesting. To tell the truth, I'm surprised at the scene with Rhinox, and maybe not as disappointed as I should be with the one with Silverbolt. Maybe I'll do something else with those two later. Now, the thing with Optimus... is not what I thought I would end writing, but I'm pleasantly surprised about it. It gives me fuzzy feelings, warm-blanket-in-a-cold-day kind of fuzzy feelings. I like it.

And... Dinobot _finally_ accepts his place as a ghost, and kinda learns to tolerate and deal with Starscream being around. And same for Starscream. Looks like he _knows_ what personal space is after all.

And here end my fic-like ideas. From now on, it's disjointed scenes without chronological order. Some may follow events from some chapters, others are completely made up. Bit by bit, I _will_ get to fill those plotholes. Though I don't know when.

Ideas, requests, missing POVs and all that are more than welcome and have a high chance of being written due to the fact I have no idea how to tackle what should come next.


	11. Jasper III

**Story:** Jasper

**Chapter title:** Fated

**Continuity:** _Transformers: Prime_ AU in which the Cybertronian are cats (TFP Kittyformers)

**Summary:** When the McKenzie moved away, Rafael didn't think having new neighbors could be such a big change. But, well, that's what happens when said new neighbor brings along her five cats. And Miko complained that Jasper wasn't 'the entertainment capital of the world' her brochure had promised...

**Synopsis:** Fate is a funny thing. There are things one never knew were planned until they come, but once they do, there's no ignoring them anymore.

* * *

><p>Grocery list in one hand, keys and wallet in the other, Trion opens the door to the street—<p>

And chuckles at the soft yowl at his feet.

Growling, Dion gets back to his feet, Hermes hanging from his jaws as yet another attempt to escape has been thwarted by the ever attentive Chartreux.

Not that the young Abyssinian is really trying to escape. He just wants to go play outside, but now is not the time for such a thing. Maybe when he gets back, with his latest book in hand and a cup of tea, he can sit in the porch and allow them to—

A flash of reddish-gray rushes past him, and, more in shock than real fear Trion feels his mouth snap open.

"Orion!"

The Somali freezes mid-step, one front paw and one back one lifted, and head held high with his ears pointed forward.

A quick look down assures the man that the other two won't try such a similar stunt, for they both seem to be frozen with the same shock flowing through the human's veins.

Hermes meows softly, almost questioningly, but Orion doesn't move.

Unable to understand what has happened to make the most well-behaved of his cats rush out like an over-excited kitten, when not even such a phase elicited that kind of behavior, Trion simply observes, and follows what must be the Somali's line of sight.

There, in the house opposite the street.

Sitting on the sill of the closed window, one front paw against the glass.

The largest cat the old teacher has ever seen.

A silver Maine Coon.

Gladiator.

"Orion?" He calls again, softer this time, and, slowly, the cat rests all paws on the ground, ears lowering almost sadly.

Head held low, he turns around and goes back inside, not even looking at Dion and Hermes, least of all Trion himself.

And there, still sitting on the window sill, Gladiator's paw is taken from the glass before the Maine Coon lowers his own ears and jumps down, out of sight inside his home.

Shocked by what has just happened, the old man doesn't notice when his other two cats go back inside, only that they are no longer there when he looks down.

Grocery list in one hand, wallet and keys in the other, Trion steps outside and locks the door.

But instead of going to his car, he crosses the street and finds himself ringing the doorbell before he can even think about what he's trying to do.

When Nanny opens the door, it is with a smile on her face and an apron on, her silent and ever-watching appropriately named Shadow staring at the man with those disturbing icy blue eyes of his from the hall table.

"Trion, what a delightful surprise. How can I help you?" She asks joyfully, gesturing for him to enter, but he declines with a smile of his own and a small head shake.

"I just wanted to know if you had plans for this afternoon." The woman looks startled for a second at that, and the old teacher quickly chuckles with a calming gesture. "I was thinking that perhaps you'd do me the honor of accompanying an old man for a cup of tea on my porch, talking about the good old days… and watching our cats play in the garden." And the small smile that had been growing on her face vanishes at those last words.

Giving a look at the immobile Shadow, she steps outside and closes the door.

"I'm not sure, Trion. I would love enjoying some tea and conversation, but… my boys, they were strays, all of them. I… don't feel comfortable just letting them out like that. What if they run away?" She whispers worriedly, biting her lower lip.

"Nanny, dear. With how long you just had the door open, I'm sure they would have run away if they had wanted to. Look at Shadow, just sitting there." He points out, gesturing to where the Siamese is _still_ staring at him. "Besides, Lady is able to get out of her house anytime she so wishes, so I'm sure your boys would have found a way out too if they just tried." However, she still looks uncomfortable, so Trion rests a hand on her shoulder, attracting her gaze. "Nevertheless, how about I bring my cats to play with yours while we enjoy some tea here?" He asks, gesturing to her porch, and, far more relaxed, she nods.

"That would be delightful." She answers at last, and, after arranging a time for their meeting, the man finally gets into his car while the woman goes back to her home.

Just before he turns on the engine, Trion freezes.

There, sitting on the windowsill, is Orion.

Feeling something cold at the bottom of his stomach, the man turns to the house at the other side of the street.

And, mirroring the Somali, is Gladiator.

Just staring at each other.

It's only the knowledge that he has already arranged for them to see each other again that allows him to focus back on the simple task of going to the grocery shop.

_Well, life has certainly turned a lot more interesting._

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Tiny update because that's all I got from a burst of inspiration. It is **not** romance. It's bromance. In this case, Optimus and Megatron found they had a lot in common, but even more knowledge the other had no idea about, and one afternoon, much of it spent just getting used to the other, wasn't enough to share all of it. So, they're eager to meet and get to talk again. Plus, they've had the same housemantes/friends for an eternity. Meeting someone new is always interesting.

The scene with Ultra Magnus/Dion having to catch Smokescreen/Hermes every time the door opens has been in my head ever since the first tidbits of this fic came to life and I realized they would be living in the same house. It felt good actually writing it.


	12. More Than Meets the Eye III

**Story:** More than Meets the Eye

**Chapter title:** Disguised Truths

**Continuity:** _G1_ AU Beastformers_  
><em>

**Summary:** Many millions of years ago, on the planet Cybertron, life existed. But not as we know it. Intelligent robots that could think and feel inhabited the cities, mechanical beings able to transform. But then, a war began, and it has come to Earth. What are humans to do in this conflict among titans? "Don't you think you're exaggerating? They're just cute tiny puppies!"

**Warnings:** Really short chapter in which almost nothing happens except from what had to happen.

* * *

><p>"You're pulling my leg."<p>

"Uh, Spike? I'm not pulling any part of your body. Or your clothes."

"It's an expression. It means you've got to be kidding me."

"Oh. No, I'm not kidding you."

"Four _million years_?!"

"Yup."

"You're four million years old?!"

"Wha—No! We've just been in stasis-lock for four million years. We're all a _lot_ older than that."

And Spike stops, feeling disoriented and not because of the harsh sun beating down on him.

Hound, fluffy fur and all, is still as fresh as when they first walked out of the _Ark_, even if he has his mouth open and his tongue lolling out of the side.

"But… you don't look that old…"

"Well, we were all repaired before the reformatting." The Norwegian Elkhound answers calmly, sitting down as he waits for the teenager to shake off his astonishment. "Any signs of wear were taken care of."

"You're all more than four million years old… I'm just _sixteen_." He whimpers, shaking his head, and Hound tilts his own curiously.

"Then you're older than some of us."

"Sixteen _years old_, not _million_ years old."

"Oh. Well, that's almost two decivorn."

"Two deci—Does that mean I'm a toddler to you?" And the Autobot tilts his head to the other side as he narrows his optics, thinking.

"Actually, you'd be the equivalent of a… two month old." Spike's mouth falls open. "Yes, two month old."

"So it isn't that I'm surrounded by old geezers, but that I'm a _baby_? Man, that's… something I'd rather not hear again. Dogs aren't supposed to be more than fifteen, eighteen at the most, or something, and you're all at least four millions… That's… Wow. Just, wow." Hound is too polite to snicker, but the way he's wagging his tail is more than enough answer. "Please, don't mention this to the others. And to think just a couple days ago I felt _old_."

"Sure thing, Spike. It'll be our secret." The Norwegian Elkhound calls as he starts trotting back the rest of distance to the _Ark_. "But you've got to promise me you'll take me to one of your cities."

"As soon as I get you a collar and a leash, sure. I'd very much not have to explain to the police why my dog's running loose."

"Hound, Spike!" Startled at his name being called, the teenager looks up, and immediately recognizes Bumblebee, in his robot mode, waving at them from the entrance. "I've found Mirage!"

And that single sentence clears the human's mind of ages, leashes and police officers.

"Is he going to show me that super cool trick you told me about?" He asks as soon as they reach the smaller Autobot, Hound changing back as they walk inside.

"Took a bit, but I managed to convince him." The Beagle answers, and Spike smiles widely.

The room they enter is large, orange, and with some weird machinery against a couple of the walls.

Nothing new taking into account it is part of an alien spaceship.

Inside are Trailbreaker and a black-bluish robot with beige chest, face, forearms and lower legs, and the same solid blue eyes as any other Autobot.

"Hey, Trailbreaker, Mirage!" He salutes with a small wave, receiving an answering one from the black, white and rust-marked large mech and a polite nod from the spy.

"Show him, Mirage, please." Bumblebee whines, and, with a small shake of his head, the bigger Autobot nods.

"So long as you stop pestering me." Spike has to muffle his laughter with a hand at that, but soon enough it becomes an easy thing, because Mirage… disappears.

With a shimmer he'd expect from a movie ghost, the spy's body becomes translucent before completely vanishing from sight.

"Whoa… Where did he go?"

"Right here." The teenager whirls around in surprise, and a shimmer immediately catches his attention as Mirage reappears.

"Disappearing. Now that is the best way to disguise oneself."

"Mirage's not the only one with light tricks on his circuitry." Hound calls, sounding amused, and Spike turns around once more—

And his jaw falls open, because there's a man standing calmly behind the Norwegian Elkhound.

"Hey, who's that?"

"No one. Just—" Hound waves a hand and the unidentified human disappears as if he'd never been there, dissolving instead of shimmering out of existence like Mirage. "—a hologram."

"That's awesome! Hah, guess that's why I didn't see Ravage before."

"Ravage?!" All four Autobots exclaim, startled, and the teenager jumps a bit in surprise.

Before realizing what he has just said.

"Ah, did I say Ravage? I meant… huh…"

"Spike, explain yourself. _Now_." Bumblebee hisses, shaking the hem of his shirt, and, startled at the intensity of his blue gaze, the human manages to babble out the whole story.

The Cybertronian transform and run away barking loudly.

"Wait! Why are you—"

"Ravage is a Decepticon!" Hound howls just before he vanishes outside, and Spike freezes.

A Decepticon.

He let a Decepticon inside the _Ark_.

"What have I done?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> My apologies, I'm afraid that's all my brain managed to produce before it shut down. Now it refuses to continue from Spike's POV and is instead sending me scenes of the Autobots and Decepticons after they woke up in those new bizarre bodies.

I know I still have a chapter and a half left of the _More Than Meets the Eye_ episodes, but my brain refuses to cooperate. I'll try to get them done, but I can't promise anything. Besides, I have the feeling I'll end making more than just a couple of changes.

Also, yes, in this AU Spike is 16. In the original he was supposed to be 14 and already working in the oil rig, which is a big 'no no' in my head, so here he's in his last year of high school, thus, 16.

Feel free to ask for scenes, different POVs and all that jazz (and about Jazz too, if you feel like it ;P).


	13. Code of Ghost IV

**Story:** Code of Ghost

**Chapter title:** Hunting Ghosts

**Continuity:** _Beast Wars_, begins at the end of episode 9 of season 2, _Code of Hero_. This chapter can happen anytime after that one, but before the end of season 2.

**Summary:** Once, a human writer said: 'Nothing can we call our own but death and that small model of the barren earth which serves as paste and cover to our bones.' And yet, when the time comes, there is neither for those who no longer live. So, what is a ghost to do?

**Synopsis:** Creepy/Humorous ficlet that popped to mind with a what if: What if one of the Maximals saw Dinobot? How would that be and how would they react?

* * *

><p>Silverbolt doesn't usually indulge in the base pleasures of losing himself to his beast mode's instincts.<p>

Both the creatures that got mixed up to make him what he is are hunters, meaning that the few times he does listen to those impulses he ends up dirty.

Mud and dust are common, as is water, both of the clear and of the swampy variant, but so is blood.

None of the other Maximals have ever told him not to hunt or expressed any kind of revulsion, and, after the first time he accidentally let his instincts get the better of him—note to self, sitting down to watch the wildlife with a low energy gauge and deciding to take a nap are _not_ good ideas—Cheetor took pity of him—actually, he laughed his armor off and, between loud guffaws at his mortified expression and panicky response, managed to tell him that both the cheetah and Dinobot used to go hunting from time to time, not to talk about how Airrazor and Tigatron lived off of organics.

Regardless of the fact none of his companions will berate him for it, especially after the story of how Dinobot managed to get himself a skin identical to his beast mode's own, and anecdotes of the rat hunting contest between the two resident carnivores and Optimus' human-based traps the time a group of rodents managed to make a nest deep in the _Axalon_, Silverbolt still refuses to actively go out hunting.

On one servo, it's because it's a denigrating activity that lowers the most chivalrous of mechs to a mindless beast and always ends with him having to scrub dirt off himself along the odd twig or pebble.

On the other, because his beast mode is simply not built for it.

Oh, he can do aerial hunting just fine, mostly because his odd-shaped shadow doesn't register as a predator, but for that same reason, it's _too easy_.

Ground hunting, however, is _too hard_. His body and back legs can handle it just fine, but his front ones aren't made for running, which means he usually ends with his tail dangling over his muzzle after tripping over his own two clawed feet.

Far more humiliating than walking back to base with a branch hanging from his neck fur that makes it look as if he had antlers.

So, no, Silverbolt doesn't actively try to hunt.

Today, however, he's pissed enough to be standing still amidst tall dry grass, stalking the antelopes that are mindlessly grazing in the plains, having taken a page from Cheetor's book of hunting like a feline.

It has the added bonus that he needs to concentrate to keep himself moving slowly and silently, crawling close enough to his chosen prey that a quick burst of speed is enough to end the chase, something that his front legs are able of dealing with.

Blackarachnia attacked them again.

She refused to leave the Predacons again.

And Silverbolt ended up having his tail handed back to him again, though not by Blackarachnia.

By _Waspinator_.

How the noisy bug managed to get behind him to shoot his wings into shreds, he'll never know.

… Actually, it may have been because he was too busy oogling—ergh, _admiring_ Blackarachnia's fluid movements and impressive flexibility as she slapped Cheetor silly.

Which means Silverbolt is pissed at himself for not managing to convince Blackarachnia, pissed at the Predacons for stealing her even before she left her pod, pissed at Waspinator for shooting him and—

And that's pretty much it, truth be told.

So, the conclusion is that he needs to calm down, meaning he needs to think about something else and blow some steam.

Hunting manages both at once.

Ergo, Silverbolt is hunting.

And quite effectively, at that.

Low as he is to the ground, the antelopes can't see him, and he's made sure to position himself so that the wind doesn't give him away.

And he's being so stealthy that none of his dinner's friends has even thought they could be watched that very moment.

Not that he's planning on eating the beast… maybe… He'd think about that once he's caught it.

Taking another step closer, he tenses, judging the distance between him and the antelope now sniffing some kind of twisted thorny bush, far enough from the rest of the group that he needs not worry about being trampled by panicked beasts—

The antelope bleats loudly as it jumps away from the bush, tripping over its own hooves before managing to get enough traction to practically fly away after its retreating companions, while Silverbolt gets up from his crouch, utterly confused.

He made sure he wasn't seen, heard or smelt, so why—

Angry growling makes all his fur stand on edge.

It's not a sound his beast mode's instincts recognize, but the mech in him knows it all too well.

Especially when a reptilian hiss follows it.

Knowing there's only one creature able to make such noises, the Fuzor whirls around, ready to contact the rest of Maximals to tell them about the ambush—

And freezes in place.

It's not Megatron.

The brown-stripped saurian stares annoyingly at where the antelopes vanished, teeth bared before it clicks its tongue in a too familiar gesture.

And then, with a look of contempt, it turns to stare him down.

Silverbolt lowers himself, eyes wide open in disbelief.

The raptor isn't especially big, but the reason he's cowering is its simple presence, not its size.

With a curious look, it turns its head to look at its back, nothing but more grass and the scrawny bush in sight.

Confused it looks back at Silverbolt before it eyes widen slightly.

Slowly, it tilts its head to the side, and the Fuzor's gaze never leaves it, even when it takes a step to the side—

A soft breeze blows, and strands of dry grass flicker through one of its arms.

"Dinobot?" The Maximals gawks, his back legs unable to handle his body weight anymore and letting his posterior fall to the ground, tail-feathers trapped under his hindquarters with a tug of pain.

Not a dream, though it may yet be a hallucination.

He's sure the CR chamber pretty much fixed him, but maybe there was some sort of slip and he's still dealing with processor damage.

**Slaggit.**

Siverbolt jumps at the voice, more like static carried by the breeze than a real voice, but the raptor's lips have moved as if pronouncing it.

**Ionic storm.**

It hisses as the raptor takes a step back.

As soon as the tail slips over the bush, it vanishes like mist.

Dumbstruck, Silverbolt can only stare as the raptor keeps moving backwards, more and more of its body dissolving into thin air as it crosses the invisible boundary marked by the bush.

When just its head and neck remain, suspended on nothing, it stops moving, head tilting to look at something at its back, almost as if… as if it was _listening_.

Slit pupils focus once more on the Fuzor, and the Maximal freezes.

For a moment, nothing happens.

And then, a thin trail of smoke starts to rise from the gnarled bush.

Silverbolt's eyes widen, horrified, as the raptor's maw opens as if to speak—

The bush bursts into flame, the disembodied head becoming ablaze with a soundless high-pitched screech that makes the Maximal's whole body stiffen painfully, skin peeling away to reveal blackening muscle, lower jaw breaking apart from the rest of the skull as only bones remain, before those too turn to nothing.

All in barely a second.

Silverbolt runs away faster than he ever knew was possible.

When Rattrap and Cheetor finally manage to convince him to show them the flaming bush—the spy can't keep a straight face while saying that, bursting into laughter at its mere mention—almost a whole day has gone by.

Only a blackened circle of scorched earth remains.

Unbeknownst to them, though, two invisible frames observe their dumbfounded expressions and listen to their crazy theories from their spot over their helms, sitting on thin air as one would a luxurious sofa.

"Why did the thing combust again?"

"Because, in order to make it feel more realistic for you to hunt, I had to supercharge your spark. Standing still over that dried out scrawny thing only managed to transfer the energy to it, and since it couldn't contain it, the energy consumed the bush."

"By setting it on fire."

"That's what happens when lightning strikes a tree."

"… Silverbolt could see me."

"Lucky him."

"Could you make it happen again?"

"Do you _seriously_ want them to know you're around?"

"… No."

"Thought so."

"No need to be so smug, Old Relic."

"I have the right to be as smug as I wish to, Sparkblade."

"Would you _stop_ calling me that?!"

"And what should I call you instead?"

"I have a designation, you know."

"No, you have a _nickname_. And I'm not calling you after an _Autobot Division_."

"I thought we agreed they deserved some respect?"

"I'm still not calling you that."

"Still sore they kicked your tailpipe, Flying Fossil?"

"I swear, one more _dinosaur pun_… and we'll have _words_, _Care Bear_."

"… Sore loser."

"Predabot."

"I hate you."

"Get in line."

"I have first row seats."

"And I'm the ringmaster, so deal with it."

"Isn't the ringmaster the boss of a _circus_?"

"Well, I have a beast for the spectacle, a freak and a transforming and vanishing trick. I think it fits."

"Asshole."

"We _really_ need to work on your insults."

"You want to teach me how to insult you?"

"No, but if I have to be insulted, I'd like to be insulted right."

"… You're right, you _do_ have a freak."

"Real funny, Z'verei mole-rat."

"What?"

"… This is going to take a while…"

Around the patch of scorched dirt, Rattrap taps the side of his helm with an annoyed expression on his faceplate.

"Are any of your audials ringing?"

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Aright, quite a bit of references in this one. The first is that 'rat hunting competition', which is from **Thing With No Talent**'s _Never Did Run Smooth_ (A Dinotrap fic that could be easily canon due to the great characterization).

The line '[hunting]'s a denigrating activity that lowers the most chivalrous of mechs to a mindless beast' is a nod to _Pirates of the Caribbean: The Curse of the Black Pearl_, said by Elisabeth Swan in regards to rum.

The next is obviously the burning bush, from the _Bible_. I swear I didn't do it on purpose, I just realized what I'd done when I wrote the part of Rattrap bursting out laughing every time he heard about it, which was when it slammed into me that Rattrap laughed _precisely_ because he thought about 'that book humans wrote about how their species came to exist'.

Last but not least, the Z'verei mole-rat is Rattrap's alt mode in IDW's _Robots in Disguise_ and onwards, which is the reason Rattrap's 'ears' are ringing (from the idiom/joke of someone's ears ringing when they're being badmouthed or just talked about when they can't hear).

Care Bears are property of whoever they are property of. I don't own anything about them, not even a plushie.

The 'Sparkblade' thing is part of this story, but hasn't been written yet. All you need to know is that it's one of Starscream's nicknames for Dinobot, and that he _abhorres_ it. So, Starscream calls him that any chance he gets, which Dinobot returns with 'Old Relic'. Ain't they lovely?

I'm not explaining about 'Predabot'. I think it's obvious enough, and this way the reader can take it any way they'd like.

Oh, and the thing with the antler-branches Silverbolt mentions? From a chapter of _Xiaolin Showdown_, but I don't remember which.

And I think that's all. As always, feel free to request anything you want, I'll try to write it as soon as possible.

**Starfire201:** That it does, much to his bewilderment XD


	14. Mirror Mirror 3,5

**Story:** Mirror Mirror

**Chapter title:** Flying between Worlds

**Continuity:** _Transformers: Prime_, after _Predacons Rising_

**Summary:** 'Your dead shall live; their bodies shall rise. You who dwell in the dust, awake and sing for joy! For your dew is a dew of light, and the earth will give birth to the dead.' Or so human literature said. However, when things become a bit too literal, how are the Autobots, plus Knockout, going to answer? And what if those dead weren't their own?

**Warnings:** I was asked what would happen if the 'normal' Starscream met the alternates, so, since I had already decided the Starscream of _Mirror Mirror_ wasn't going to be him, this **_is just a drabble, an AU for this very fic, IT'S A 'WHAT IF'_**. There, I said it. This is just a drabble, the real chapter 4 comes just after this one.

* * *

><p>It's not the door opening, but the voices coming through it that catch Bumblebee's attention.<p>

He's not really surprised to see the newcomers, though he can't help the twitching of his doorwings and recalibrating of his optics at the sight of one of them.

Easily repaired, though still missing the lower part of the front right extra leg, Airachnid is up and about after only half an orn, even if at the price of her energy levels not being at their max, as evidenced by the Energon cube in her servos.

However, she has already had her color scheme changed.

Not that it is much different.

She's still mostly black, but her previous purple accents are now a deep blue, and any gold detailing she sported is now a soothing liquid silver.

Amber optics scan the bridge, and widen slightly when they find the black and yellow mech.

"He _does_ look like Bumblebee, minus the optics." She states calmly, regally walking towards the station Soundwave is repairing. "How are you doing?"

"Almost done!" The silvery Flier chirps, soldering some more cables. "It's the last one too. Then, I'm going to check the Rec Rooms."

"My, my. You, Soundwave, enjoying repair work? Who are you and what have you done with our Communications Officer?" Breakdown and Knockout, standing by the door, snicker at her teasing tone.

"That I volunteered to do this doesn't mean I'm enjoying it." The slender Decepticon's pout is easily heard as he turns his head to stare at her. "It's just that I knew I could get it ready faster, and we _do_ need a functional long range communications station."

"Think there's more of you out there?" The red Medic asks calmly, servos resting on his pelvic plating.

"Maybe. We still need it one way or another." The Communications Officer answers, more subdued, before he pulls away from the wiring to close the panel. "There, all done."

"Should we try it?" Bumblebee speaks for the first time, and even Airachnid seems to perk up.

Instead of answering, the alternates turn to the femme.

After some nanokliks of silence, she nods.

Soundwave squeals, but before he can even touch the controls, the screen comes to life.

"We have a call!" The rest of Cybertronian in the room flock to his side, the alternates not giving Bumblebee a second glance when he joins them. "It's Shockwave! I'm patching him through."

"Nemesis_, this is Shockwave. Do you receive me?_" Soundwave and Breakdown turn to Airachnid, but she glances at Knockout, who has a tired grimace on his faceplate.

"Knockout here. We hear you loud and clear, Shockwave."

"_I require your assistance, Doctor._" The bored look on the red Decepticon disappears, optics sharpening.

"Where are you? How bad is it?"

"_I'm sending my coordinates as we speak. We will require the use of the Repair Bay, but there is no immediate danger to the injured party._"

"We?" Bumblebee repeats, exchanging a look with Airachnid, who is obviously in charge of the alternate Decepticons.

"I have the coordinates." Soundwave whispers, huddling into himself as he turns to the femme. "Should I…"

"Call Magnus, let him know of the situation. Knockout, about this universe's Shockwave?"

"If he says he needs repairs, he _needs_ them. Let him come, he won't try anything." He answers seriously, turning to Bumblebee, who only nods in answer.

"Tell Magnus we're going ahead, and get Ratchet to ready the Repair Bay. We'll need a Ground Bridge there next we call." Airachnid orders, a swirling portal blazing to life in the middle of the bridge. "If any of you wants to stay back, you're welcome to."

Only Soundwave remains behind, the Ground Bridge closing as soon as the four of them step out to the open plains surrounding the Well of All Sparks and the _Nemesis_ herself.

And there, standing as strong and immovable as always, is a completely intact Shockwave.

However, there's no need to ask the reason for the request for medical attention, because at his back lies a small trailer, and sitting on it is Starscream.

Or what remains of him.

The Autobot can see only half a wing lying limply on his back, his chest plating caved in and ripped off on one side. The plating of his right thigh is missing, revealing damaged relays and uncovered wiring, as well as bright blue Energon lines. The band of glass-metal along his stomach is also gone, along a good chunk of his more thinner abdominal plating and the tensile cables and gears underneath, showing even more lines and even a couple of Energon converters along what looks like his main tank. His right shoulder guard is missing, the left mangled to the point it's piercing the torso and arm plating. His right forearm is lying on his lap, bent in half, both missiles missing, and his left pede is nowhere to be seen, the lower leg only a bunch of dangling strips of metal and wires. The finial on his forehelm is not there, part of his helm gone with it to reveal the processor casing, faint scratch marks on it. Deep gouges and punctures cover his whole frame, paint scratched almost completely off.

Yet his optics shine brightly as they turn to them, disgust twisting his faceplate in a sneer as they meet Bumblebee's own, before surprise and slight fear replace it as he sees Airachnid and Breakdown.

"Your brevity is commendable." Shockwave's voice breaks the silence like a cannon shot, and Knockout briskly steps forward, gesturing madly.

"What the _Pit_ have you done, Starscream?! Fight with a _Predacon_?!" The Medic shouts, stopping by the Seeker's side and looking him over as if not sure what he should be treating first.

"Three, actually." The red Decepticon stops instantly, helm snapping up to meet the Flier's still stunned gaze. "What have you done _this time_?" The Seeker hisses, glaring at the red Decepticon as he gestures to the alternates. "I thought Silas was gone! And Airachnid too!"

"That's not Silas. They're Breakdown and Airachnid, but from a different universe."

"A _what_?"

"An opposite universe where the Autobots are evil and the Decepticons good. Now stay still before you pop something." The Medic growls, dactyls twitching madly at the damage. "Primus, how are you still _functioning_?"

"So… he's not our Starscream." The sandy Grounder mumbles dejectedly, lone optic turning away with something resembling sadness.

"A _good_ Starscream? As if it turned out so well last time I tried." The Seeker hisses in answer, trying to cross his arms against his chest plates but failing monumentally due to the fact he's lacking one of the forearms.

"You attacked Arcee." Bumblebee points out with as little anger as he's able, and the Decepticon scowls.

"It was self-defense! She was trying to scrap me!"

"How about we leave that for later?" Knockout cuts with an annoyed grimace, resting a couple of dactyls against the side of his helm. "Soundwave, get us to Repair Bay."

A Ground Bridge opens no sooner has he spoken, and Airachnid and the Autobot walk through it first, Knockout following almost immediately as Shockwave and Breakdown pull the trailer after them with an annoyed Starscream still seating on it.

Ratchet turns around from the processor-boggling arrangement of medical tools as soon as they step into the Bay, his optics scanning them with the intensity only a Medic or a Prime can accomplish, before widening as he sees the state of their patient.

Soundwave, leaning against the entrance with Ultra Magnus, tenses with a dismayed squeak, attracting the Seeker's glare, which quickly turns to mild surprise.

"I guess _that_ isn't our Soundwave either." He says simply, but the Communications Officer flinches back as if struck, Airachnid quickly walking to his side to get out of the way and offer comfort as she takes one of his servos in hers.

"Come on, Soundwave. Let's see what we can do to repair the Rec Rooms, alright?" She asks softly, tugging him to the door, but the larger Flier doesn't move, screen facing the Decepticon SIC.

"He's not our Starscream?"

"He can _talk_?!" The Seeker squeaks, optics wide as he turns to Knockout, who is fiddling with some tools.

"I think what you mean to say is that he's _chosen_ to talk. You know our Soundwave could talk too, don't you?"

"For all the good it did him, that blasted meddlesome spy…"

"Just mute it and let me work." The red Medic orders tiredly, glaring down at the Seeker.

"Why did you get upgraded?" Starscream tenses sharply and turns to spear the Communications Officer with rep optics blazing with a fury Bumblebee has never seen in the Decepticon before.

"And what makes you think I was upgraded?"

"Because I know you."

"You know nothing, you hear me?! _Nothing_!"

"Whoa, Starscream, calm down! Don't take things too seriously, alright?" Knockout tries, as surprised as the rest at the unexpected outburst. "Remember, their universe may be opposite to ours, but it's also parallel. There was a Starscream there, but the mech they know it's not you, so try not to take offense, alright?"

"They know nothing…" The Seeker hisses softly, still fuming, but settling down. "Nothing."

"Exactly. Now, let's get you repaired." The red Decepticon answers calmly, gesturing for the non-medical Cybertronian to exit.

Soundwave practically flies away, leaving a worried Airachnid in his wake.

"Please excuse me." She says simply as she changes to her battle mode and scurries after the silver Flier.

Utterly lost, Bumblebee looks up at Ultra Magnus as the door closes at their back.

The Autobot Commander just shakes his head to say he has no answer to what has happened, before they go back to their duties with more questions than answers in their processors.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Now that this is over, the real _Mirror Mirror IV_ has already been posted, just after this one. You only have to click that button at the right of the chapter box (of the word _Next_ if you're reading through a mobile phone, tablet, something of the like).

As with everything else, you can ask about missing scenes, different POVs, all that thing.


	15. Mirror Mirror IV

**Story:** Mirror Mirror

**Chapter title:** Together at Last

**Continuity:** _Transformers: Prime_, after _Predacons Rising_

**Summary:** 'Your dead shall live; their bodies shall rise. You who dwell in the dust, awake and sing for joy! For your dew is a dew of light, and the earth will give birth to the dead.' Or so human literature said. However, when things become a bit too literal, how are the Autobots, plus Knockout, going to answer? And what if those dead weren't their own?

**Warnings:** This is the real _Mirror Mirror IV_. Don't let the identical beginning fool you, it's just that I had no reason to change things because they were going to happen just the same.

* * *

><p>It's not the door opening, but the voices coming through it that catch Bumblebee's attention.<p>

He's not really surprised to see the newcomers, though he can't help the twitching of his doorwings and recalibrating of his optics at the sight of one of them.

Easily repaired, though still missing the lower part of the front right extra leg, Airachnid is up and about after only half an orn, even if at the price of her energy levels not being at their max, as evidenced by the Energon cube in her servos.

However, she has already had her color scheme changed.

Not that it is much different.

She's still mostly black, but her previous purple accents are now a deep blue, and any gold detailing she sported is now a soothing liquid silver.

Amber optics scan the bridge, and widen slightly when they find the black and yellow mech.

"He _does_ look like Bumblebee, minus the optics." She states calmly, regally walking towards the station Soundwave is repairing. "How are you doing?"

"Almost done!" The silvery Flier chirps, soldering some more cables. "It's the last one too. Then, I'm going to check the Rec Rooms."

"My, my. You, Soundwave, enjoying repair work? Who are you and what have you done with our Communications Officer?" Breakdown and Knockout, standing by the door, snicker at her teasing tone.

"That I volunteered to do this doesn't mean I'm enjoying it." The slender Decepticon's pout is easily heard as he turns his head to stare at her. "It's just that I knew I could get it ready faster, and we _do_ need a functional long range communications station."

"Think there's more of you out there?" The red Medic asks calmly, servos resting on his pelvic plating.

"Maybe. We still need it one way or another." The Communications Officer answers, more subdued, before he pulls away from the wiring to close the panel. "There, all done."

"Should we try it?" Bumblebee speaks for the first time, and even Airachnid seems to perk up.

Instead of answering, the alternates turn to the femme.

After some nanokliks of silence, she nods.

Soundwave squeals, but before he can even touch the controls, the screen comes to life.

"We have a call!" The rest of Cybertronian in the room flock to his side, the alternates not giving Bumblebee a second glance when he joins them. "It's Shockwave! I'm patching him through."

"Nemesis_, this is Shockwave. Do you receive me?_" Soundwave and Breakdown turn to Airachnid, but she glances at Knockout, who has a tired grimace on his faceplate.

"Knockout here. We hear you loud and clear, Shockwave."

"_I require your assistance, Doctor._" The bored look on the red Decepticon disappears, optics sharpening.

"Where are you? How bad is it?"

"_I'm sending my coordinates as we speak. We will require the use of the Repair Bay, but there is no immediate danger to the injured party._"

"We?" Bumblebee repeats, exchanging a look with Airachnid, who is obviously in charge of the alternate Decepticons.

"I have the coordinates." Soundwave whispers, huddling into himself as he turns to the femme. "Should I…"

"Call Magnus, let him know of the situation. Knockout, about this universe's Shockwave?"

"If he says he needs repairs, he _needs_ them. Let him come, he won't try anything." He answers seriously, turning to Bumblebee, who only nods in answer.

"Tell Magnus we're going ahead, and get Ratchet to ready the Repair Bay. We'll need a Ground Bridge there next we call." Airachnid orders, a swirling portal blazing to life in the middle of the bridge. "If any of you wants to stay back, you're welcome to."

Only Soundwave remains behind, the Ground Bridge closing as soon as the four of them step out to the open plains surrounding the Well of All Sparks and the _Nemesis_ herself.

And there, standing as strong and immovable as always, is a completely intact Shockwave.

However, there's no need to ask the reason for the request for medical attention, because at his back lies a small trailer, and sitting on it is Starscream.

Or what remains of him.

The Autobot can see only half a wing lying limply on his back, his chest plating caved in and ripped off on one side. The plating of his right thigh is missing, revealing damaged relays and uncovered wiring, as well as bright blue Energon lines. The band of glass-metal along his stomach is also gone, along a good chunk of his more thinner abdominal plating and the tensile cables and gears underneath, showing even more lines and even a couple of Energon converters along what looks like his main tank. His right shoulder guard is missing, the left mangled to the point it's piercing the torso and arm plating. His right forearm is lying on his lap, bent in half, both missiles missing, and his left pede is nowhere to be seen, the lower leg only a bunch of dangling strips of metal and wires. The finial on his forehelm is not there, part of his helm gone with it to reveal the processor casing, faint scratch marks on it. Deep gouges and punctures cover his whole frame, paint scratched almost completely off.

Yet his optics shine brightly and deadly serious, analyzing each and every one of them with an intensity that keeps Bumblebee frozen in his spot.

"Your brevity is commendable." Shockwave's voice breaks the silence like a cannon shot, and Knockout briskly steps forward, gesturing madly.

"What the _Pit_ have you done, Starscream?! Fight with a _Predacon_?!" The Medic shouts, stopping by the Seeker's side and looking him over as if not sure what he should be treating first.

"Three, actually." The red Decepticon stops instantly, helm snapping up to meet the Flier's still unnervingly piercing gaze.

"What." Knockout's voice is strangled and far softer than before, but still easily heard.

"Apparently, I was their chosen chew toy for the day." Starscream adds nonchalantly, his attention going to the alternates and Bumblebee himself. "Airachnid, field report."

The femme snaps to attention with an ease and speed that would make Ultra Magnus proud.

"Technician, repairmech and supervisor unaccounted; communications array, structural support, atmospheric readers and most of the workforce on site and on duty. Preliminary scans reveal deposits of abnormally-colored Red Energon, as well as a Grade E of Purple, no hint of Green. Pockets of flammable gas detected near R3, avoided successfully to the moment. Specks of Ferroquartz detected all over the selected area, mining hazard disregarded, potential value as goods accounted. Cybertanium veins along grids B2, B8, M1, R1, S5 and W10, mining already in progress, purity of 75 to 90 percent. Atmospheric analysis predict clear weather conditions in the foreseeable future, possible light cloud cover threatening decreased visibility, otherwise non-damaging. Ground integrity ascertained and maintained all thorough operation, possible tremors further down, but construction of temporary quarters is a go, Sir."

"In Cybertronian, please?" Knockout blurts out, as confused and utterly lost as Bumblebee himself.

Airachnid just smiles before rushing to Starscream's side, Breakdown hurriedly after her to examine the damaged Seeker.

"How the Pit did you get yourself upgraded? And how did you manage to confront three Predacons and _survive_?" The femme questions almost furiously, grabbing the other Flier's helm and tilting it carefully to examine the damage.

"No idea to both. When I first activated in this frame, it was already like this. I was fortunate this dimension's Shockwave found me and repaired me to the best of his capabilities."

And those words are all they need to realize what is going on, even if Knockout looks a bit hurt at the realization.

"The necessary parts are in the trailer, though I lack the knowledge to properly replace them." The Decepticon scientist interrupts calmly, gesturing to the Seeker's seat.

"And what do you get from this?" The Medic questions with narrowed optics, attracting the unflinching gaze of the larger mech.

"Now that all conflicts have ceased, it is only logical to apply my knowledge to the restoration of Cybertron." The alternates, minus Starscream, look completely flabbergasted at that response, frozen in place as they stare at Shockwave like they'd never seen him before.

"Sounds good enough for me." Bumblebee answers before contacting the _Nemesis_' bridge. "Take us to the Repair Bay, Soundwave."

A Ground Bridge opens no sooner has he spoken, and Airachnid and the Autobot walk through it first, Knockout following almost immediately as Shockwave and Breakdown pull the trailer after them with an annoyed Starscream still seating on it.

Ratchet turns around from the processor-boggling arrangement of medical tools as soon as they step into the Bay, his optics scanning them with the intensity only a Medic or a Prime can accomplish, before widening as he sees the state of their patient.

Soundwave, leaning against the entrance with Ultra Magnus, tenses with a dismayed squeak, attracting the Seeker's once more piercing glare.

And then, to Bumblebee's amazement, Starscream's features soften into a small cocky smile and comfortingly warm red optics.

"What are you worried about? These are just a couple of scratches, Chatterbox." The Communications Officer crosses the room so fast that next the yellow and black mech knows he's already embracing the other Flier as tightly as his wounds allow, the other alternate's remaining arm encircling his shoulders and caressing the back of his helm soothingly. "It's alright. I'm here, and I'm not going anywhere. I'll be fully repaired and back in my frame in no time, so what do you say if we take a long flight then, just you and me?"

Shaking badly, the silver Flier just nods.

"Come on, Soundwave. Let's leave the doctors to their work." Airachnid whispers soothingly, resting her servos on the Communications Officer's arm, but the mech just tightens his hold.

"How about a deal?" Slowly, the screen turns up to stare at Starscream's soothing smile, which grows a bit at the attention. "I have only the most basic knowledge about this universe, so why don't you prepare a report about everything we all need to know while I'm getting my frame repaired?"

"Fine." The silver Flier adds after some nanokliks, nodding as he finally steps off the embrace. "Don't be long?"

"I promise I'll be back. And you can come visit any time you want, but you need to ask Knockout first. Deal?"

"Deal."

"Now that this has been taken care of, what is it that you know about this universe, soldier?" Ultra Magnus asks, stepping closer to the group, and the Seeker straightens as much as his damage allows.

"That the Decepticons were would-be conquerors and the Autobots opposed them for the sake of other species' freedom. The opposite of our reality." Starscream answers calmly, politely, but his optics shine in a clear warning.

Damaged as he is, Bumblebee believes he can carry the unvoiced threat through.

"However, the conflicts are over, and the goal of all those that survived it is to bring Cybertron back to her former glory." The alternate adds slightly more calm than before, and Magnus nods.

"Would you agree to enter a truce with us for as long as you stay here?"

"I will, as long as we are allowed to study the reason we came to be in this universe and try to find a way to reverse it."

"Consider it done." The Autobot Commander answers before turning to the door. "Let's leave the doctors to their job, soldiers."

With Airachnid guiding Soundwave out by a servo, the two of them and Bumblebee follow Ultra Magnus outside as the Repair Bay fills with activity.

"I guess that's everybody." Both alternates turn to the warrior, and it takes him a moment to realize he's spoken out loud. "I mean, we know Megatron is online, but we don't know where he is because he decided to go explore the universe once he disbanded the Decepticons. And I sincerely doubt he's managed to get himself scrapped after his… upgrade."

"And Prime?" Airachind whispers, deadly serious, as the Communications Officer shivers in badly-contained fear.

"Optimus… He… gave his spark up to jump-start the Well of All Sparks. He had to take the Allspark into the Matrix to protect it from Unicron, but that meant… his own spark became part of it. So when he returned it to the Well…"

"His own spark went with it." The femme finishes softly, a sympathetic smile on her faceplate as she rests a servo reassuringly on Bumblebee's forearm. "He sounds like a good mech. I'm happy for you."

"He sounds like…" They both turn to Soundwave, but the mech is fidgeting nervously, still shivering, as he looks away.

"Like your Megatron?"

"Yes, but… Forget that, it's not important. I'll see you later."

And without another word, the Communications Officer walks away towards the bridge.

"What do you say of introducing me to the rest of your companions?" Airachnid asks, not looking confused or curious about her fellow Flier's words.

Seeing no problem with that and without anything better to do, Bumblebee nods and gestures towards the other direction.

"Can I ask what was that thing with Starscream? All that talk of Energon deposits and Cybertanium and… stuff?"

"He was asking about the situation with the natives and the rest of us." She answers with a smile that is a bit too reminiscent of the spider the Autobot knew.

"Didn't sound like that."

"Which is exactly why I answered as I did."

Asking for more is going to be useless, so Bumblebee just leaves it like that.

Besides, her sharp smirk is too much like the Airachnid of his universe to the warrior's comfort.

And he doesn't know what to do about that.

If there's one thing that throws him off more than the alternates' personalities is when they act like the Cybertronian the Autobot knew.

Which is a far too common occurrence despite the major changes, for most of their small gestures, mannerisms and even the way they word their sentences or their tones are way too well known.

And that is just plain _wrong_ for what are supposed to be opposite universes.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Time to be truthful: I was going to post both parts and let you choose which one you wanted to be 'canon' and which the drabble, but then I found my brain had already decided, so I couldn't do that to you people, getting your hopes up just so that I could tell you I'd known all along that I was going to focus on one and work on the other just by request. Nevertheless, feel free to ask about missing scenes, different POVs, all that, of both parts.

And now they're all accounted for. Time to introduce... _Megatron_ *evil cackles* ... What? It's not a spoiler, he's the only character still alive that's missing. Did _anyone_ think he wouldn't pop up sooner or later after receiving an emergency beacon from _Soundwave_?


	16. Jasper IV

**Story:** Jasper

**Chapter title:** Drops

**Continuity:** _Transformers: Prime_ AU in which the Cybertronian are cats (TFP Kittyformers)

**Summary:** When the McKenzie moved away, Rafael didn't think having new neighbors could be such a big change. But, well, that's what happens when said new neighbor brings along her five cats. And Miko complained that Jasper wasn't 'the entertainment capital of the world' her brochure had promised...

**Synopsis:** Things are always changing, whether it is from a piece of the future dropping in or a part of the past dropping out. And, sometimes, they exchange roles.

* * *

><p>Red's fur is as silky as it looks, and Rafael finds himself unable to stop himself from running his fingers through it over and over again, to the point the purring cat sprawls on his lap.<p>

The day is sunny with some clouds. Perfect for being outside.

Bee and Hermes are tussling on the grass of Nanny's yard, Orion and Gladiator lying not too far away dozing in the sun, with Breaker sitting just out of arm's length of the young boy, Dion curled at the human's side, also seemingly asleep.

The old woman and Mister Trion are sitting on the porch with some cups, talking about who knows what that happened about fifty years ago, both of them smiling.

Today is the first day Nanny's cats have come outside, and it has all gone perfectly.

Gladiator just walked out almost regally, not stopping until he found a patch of grass to his liking to lie down, while Breaker and Red roamed around for a bit before deciding to come keep Raf company, the bobtailed cat even rolling around contently as the long-haired ginger looked almost… disgusted at such a behavior.

Seeing how he'd thoroughly cleaned his paw pads when he came to lie on the boy's lap, Rafael can only assume he's a bit of a neat freak.

Though it pays of. That long fur of his is so well-cared for that he really can't find it in himself to stop stroking it, least of all because Red is purring as if he was in Heaven.

Now, the other two, though…

Taking a last look at the playing kittens, Raf turns to the porch.

They're a bit hard to spot, but Skinny's red stripe on his head gives them away.

Both him and Shadow are lying under Nanny's chair, not having even stepped onto the yard, with the Siamese stopping on the last step to observe for a minute before walking back to be at the gray cat's side.

They look… not happy.

Well, Skinny doesn't, large ears bent back almost sadly, while Shadow stays close to the long-legged cat, icy eyes closed.

Maybe they're afraid Nanny is trying to kick them out? She did say they were strays before she took them in, after all.

A meow he wasn't really expecting makes him disregard such thoughts to focus back to the present.

And there, as he thought he heard, is Lady, approaching them calmly with her tail held high.

There's another cat with her, one he's never seen before.

He's a mid-haired reddish shade of orange with an almost black face, tail and legs, but his paws are white, and his sky blue eyes shine brightly amidst the dark fur.

Red jumps off Rafael's lap so fast that he squeaks in surprise, but falls silent when he sees the usually easy-going ginger hiss at the approaching cats, Breaker mimicking him by his side, with Gladiator standing tall and snarling.

Lady freezes, tail falling down, while the unknown cat takes a step back, lowering himself with eyes wide.

Hermes and Bee rush to the boy's side, Dion stepping between them and the other cats protectively, while Orion stands tense, head moving from the newcomers to Gladiator, still by his side.

"What are you doing?" Nanny calls for the porch, Trion standing up slowly with worry on his face.

The strange new cat meows softly—and rolls to his back, looking straight at the large Maine Coon as he exposes his belly.

Head low in warning but no longer snarling, the silver beast approaches him, Lady shrinking away as he walks past her.

It's only when Gladiator sniffs it that Rafael realizes the unknown cat is wearing a collar, a thin black thing that is half-hidden by his fur.

The Maine Coon rumbles softly while showing his sharp teeth, but turns away while flicking his tail with annoyance, reclaiming his spot as he lies down, stretching as much as he's able.

Which is quite a lot.

Nevertheless, the other two calm down too, and Red returns to Raf's lap as the kittens and Dion go to meet the stranger, lying where Gladiator left him, and Breaker sits down a bit closer to the boy than he was before.

Orion waits until they've all sniffed the reddish cat before doing so himself, and, when he goes back to Gladiator's side, the newcomer follows, tail swinging curiously as he bounces to Breaker.

The bobtailed cat stiffens and hisses, so the red cat stops and leaves him alone, turning his attention instead to Rafael.

He only manages to take a step closer before Breaker tackles him, standing over the smaller cat with a low hiss, a menacing snarl on his muzzle as the other shrinks under his paws.

"Whoa! Easy, boy." The human calls, rising his hands with worry, but the one-eyed cat just snarls before stepping off the reddish one—

And sits against Rafael's side.

Stunned, the boy can only look down at him, hands still up.

Breaker has issues with humans because, according to Nanny, he was mistreated.

And yet, here he is, pressed against a pre-teen that he's known for barely a week, and protecting him from an unknown cat.

Though, as Red shifts on Raf's lap to be able to lick Breaker's back, short fur rising as he gives the stranger a one-eyed glare, the boy has to wonder if he isn't protecting the ginger instead.

Nanny did say the two of them came to her together.

The newcomer doesn't seem put off by that, though, just stretching before getting up to sit next to where Lady is curled close to Dion, each licking one of the kittens clean.

Rafael snickers softly when the red cat rubs his head against the Russian Blue's cheek, only to get a paw on his forehead pushing him away, the female obviously too busy cleaning Bee to deal with him.

So, he just lies down against her, purring loud enough to be heard from where Raf is, the Toyger batting curiously at one silvery ear without the older cat doing nothing more than twitch it.

Jack is going to throw a fit.

Something moves next to him, and Rafael almost jumps out of his skin when he turns and finds Shadow suddenly there, both Red and Breaker sprinting away from the boy in surprise.

The Siamese doesn't even give the boy a look.

He can feel himself blushing when he hears Nanny and Trion laugh, and he looks at them with a pout, seeing Skinny standing expectantly on the last step, but not making a move to get a paw on the grass.

Turning once more to the cats, he sees the red newcomer is once more standing… if lying down on his belly and pressing close to the ground can be called such.

Shadow, standing in front of him, doesn't even seem to notice about the smaller cat's discomfort, observing him with those piercing icy blue eyes of his as the reddish feline fidgets almost fearfully, ears pressed against his skull.

Bee meeps, the Siamese's tail twitches—and the black cat turns away like nothing happened, calmly and silently walking back to the porch.

And then, when it seemed like they were finally winding down, Hermes manages to squirm out of Dion's paws and slams headfirst into Shadow's front leg, piercing icy eyes focused on the nervous kitten sitting where he's fallen, ears laying down and fur rising.

Gladiator stands up, alert and moving as carefully as if he's expecting the Siamese to lash out any second.

Rafael's breath catches in his throat.

But the black cat just lowers his head slowly, licks the Abyssinian's forehead until his fur lowers and his ears prickle forward once more, and nuzzles him up and back towards where a very nervous Dion is standing.

And then, he turns away, crosses the yard and lies down under Nanny's chair once more, though this time his ears are pressed against his skull as he rests his head between his front paws, icy eyes half open.

Skinny walks to be by his side and, when he lies down, it's with his head resting on Shadow's neck.

The Siamese finally closes his eyes and curls into the long-legged cat, who lifts his head to lick the black fur of his shoulders and back.

Rafael almost startles when Red climbs up his lap once more, Breaker lying against the boy's leg in a curled fur-ball.

Carefully, the human touches the gray-blue back.

He can feel the cat stiffen, but when he just slides his finger for a short distance before repeating the gesture, he relaxes.

When Red starts to purr without Rafael petting him, he has the feeling it is out of pride.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Introducing a mixed Birman called... who can guess it? ;)

Only one more character to introduce, for now, 'cause there are some things ressembling a plot swimming around in my brain, so we may get to something yet. I don't know what will come next, though. I'm feeling up to some backstories... Any suggestions?


	17. More Than Meets the Eye IV

**Story:** More than Meets the Eye

**Chapter title:** New Beginnings

**Continuity:** _G1_ AU Beastformers_  
><em>

**Summary:** Many millions of years ago, on the planet Cybertron, life existed. But not as we know it. Intelligent robots that could think and feel inhabited the cities, mechanical beings able to transform. But then, a war began, and it has come to Earth. What are humans to do in this conflict among titans? "Don't you think you're exaggerating? They're just cute tiny puppies!"

**Synopsis:** With every new world come new forms, but sometimes there are also chances at completely new lives (or 'The Decepticons' First Day on Earth').

* * *

><p>The reason for their new and bizarre alt modes is given as soon as they step out of the <em>Ark<em>, though it's not one any of them enjoy.

"An _organic_ planet? Oh, _great_."

"Quit your whining. We need to find a safe place to stay in before we find a means to return to Cybertron. Skywarp, scout ahead." Megatron orders, his filament-covered black-stripped gray body moving almost completely silently despite its larger size and the unusual quadruped method of travelling.

But the Seeker doesn't move, just stands there with his wing-turned arms slightly open and dragging on the dirt-covered ground, optics widening in surprise, the tiny black spot in them growing smaller.

"Uh…"

"Well? That wasn't a suggestion."

"I-I don't know how."

Silence, and all optics turn to the purplish-black mech.

"What?"

"I don't know how to fly! This alt mode has no turbines, no engine-powered flight!" He squeaks, wing-arms opening and twitching as he gestures to himself, the armor scutes covering his body in organized layers fluffing out with his growing distress. "Oh Primus… I _can't fly_…"

"Can you teleport?" The Decepticon leader asks, his previous anger gone from his voice as his audial shells twist back in a gesture Soundwave's alt mode coding recognizes as fear or discomfort.

"I-I think—"

And he vanishes with a flash of purple.

A nanoklik later, there's a screech from above, and they all see a black helm with pale yellow intake cover plates turn so that a red optic can look down at them.

"I can!" Skywarp shouts before vanishing to reappear by their side once more, looking giddy this time. "Thank Primus, I can."

"Thundercracker?" Starscream asks, his alt mode extremely similar to that of his Trinemates but smaller than theirs and a mainly gray color scheme, with the wing-arms a more bluish tone and the chest area reddish, though he keeps the black of the helm.

The larger of the Seekers straightens, his color scheme a dark brown with a bluish shine and white shoulder areas, before he spreads his wing-arms wide and opens his intake cover plates—

The rumbling explosive sound shakes the rest of Decepticons down to their spark chambers, and Soundwave finds himself falling to the ground with a pained yelp as he covers his audials and helm with his front legs, uncaring about the dust he's smearing on himself.

Even when the Flier stops, there's still some echoing roaring as parts of the mountain crack and fall apart.

"_Idiot_!" The Air Commander shrieks, and the Communications Officer winces as it doesn't help his audials clear the residual high-pitched echo. "I was _asking_, not _ordering_ you to give a demonstration!"

"And how was I supposed to know? My self-diagnoses are too busy trying to make sense of what that Autobot repair beam did to us!"

"Mute it, you two!" Megatron roars, and Soundwave is starting to lose hope his audials will ever be echo-free again. "We move _now_."

"Yes, whatever."

"Spyglass, Viewfinder, Spectro. Any way you could find a proper defensible are to use as temporary base?" Their leader asks, turning to the three short-legged creatures that have been patiently observing up until now.

They all look alike, with subtle differences like the shape of the helm and the audial shells, though the most obvious way to differentiate them is the pattern of color on their white helms and their color schemes.

While they all have two stripes from their chemoreceptor unit to the back of the helm, where it disappears along the rest of the color, and surrounding the optics, Viewfinder's is the only one whose stripes end on the audial shells, with the other two having theirs join on top of the helm without being in contact with the audials, and Spectro has the area around his optics be darker.

Also, Viewfinder's coloring is dark gray, with Spyglass' being lighter and Spectro sporting the palest shade, mixed with some brown.

The Reflector Gestaltmates exchange a look before turning back to Megatron and shaking their helms, as completely lost as the rest of them with their new alt modes.

The filaments between the warlord's shoulder joints lift with a soft growl, and Soundwave's alt mode coding puts him on alert.

"Is _anyone_ competent enough to find a defensible _hole in the ground_?"

Knowing he will be no good, the Communications Officer looks down at his Cassettes.

Laserbeak and Buzzsaw have been turned into similar modes as the Seekers, though the first sports a rounded helm with flat faceplate and tiny intake cover plates and big optics, while the second has Thundercracker's more oval-shaped helm complete with black intake cover plates and a black band around his optics.

As their wide optics and curled into themselves stances tell him, they can't fly either.

Ratbat, despite also being flight-capable, if his wing-arms are something to go by, will be even less able, seeing as his youngest creation can't even walk, his big audial shells reminiscent of Soundwave's, as are his filament-covered rounded body and snout filled with sharp denta, but he looks at where the Cassette is riding on his back, only to see the same wide optics and the pressed back audial shells.

Frenzy and Rumble, frames elongated with short legs that make for clumsy movements, exchange a look before giving their carrier pleading looks to not be volunteered, which isn't something the Communications Officer was willing to do. Their walking skills leave enough to be desired, so no way would they be able to go scouting. Perhaps they should try walking on all fours, like Megatron, the Reflector Gestalt and Soundwave himself have been forced to do…

So, in the end, the Cassette Carrier turns to Ravage, the only one of the Decepticons whose new alt mode somehow resembles his Cybertronian one, down to the four-legged movement and the tail for balance, though this one is longer, thicker and far more mobile, as well as his audial shells.

He's also the one who looks more like Megatron, though a smaller version with far shorter filament cover.

And, as always, his oldest creation doesn't disappoint, stepping closer to their leader in a signal that he volunteers as their scout, pede-steps completely silent, but black color-scheme easily visible against the orangish of their surroundings.

"Ah, Ravage. At least there's someone that _never_ disappoints." The Decepticon leader purrs, sending a pointed glare at his Air Commander.

Instead of retorting, Starscream just stares in surprise, as do all the others.

Because it hasn't been Megatron's voice giving the purring sound to his words, but his engine. And it's still going.

A deep, content sound that echoes in Soundwave's chest cavity almost uncomfortably.

A nanoklik later, the warlord jerks in surprise, the sound stopping when he realizes just what he's been doing, before he snarls.

"Slagging Autobot ship and its reformatting beam, messing with my systems…" He growls before shaking himself and looking down at the black Cassette, patiently waiting. "Go, find somewhere that we can use. Skywarp, teleport back to the top of the mountain, try to make yourself _useful_." Both mechs nod before obeying, Ravage scurrying away silently while the Seeker vanishes with a purple flash.

And… that leaves the rest standing in uncomfortable silence, simply staring at each other as they try to update their data about their fellow Decepticons' appearance.

"This is all your fault." Starscream finally deadpans, half-shuttered optics on Megatron, the black dot further intensifying the focused stare.

The warlord just lets out a long and tired ex-vent, helm lowering as his optics shutter.

"Mute it, Starscream." He rumbles tiredly, and silence dawns again.

And then, Skywarp reappears with another purple flash.

"There's a rock formation that way that may prove useful." He squeaks happily, a wing-arm spreading to point in the direction the Cassette has gone to. "It's big, and the rocks are positioned in a circle, so it would hide us nicely from the natives. Plus, Ravage is kind of stuck on a rock." He adds with a snicker, and Soundwave's helm whips to where he last saw his creation, audial shells angled to better intercept sound as he takes air through his chemoreceptor unit to try and identify possible dangers or spilt Energon, bond flaring questioningly. "Or so it seemed. He was just standing on the rock, not moving a micron." Curiosity and slight worry are sent back from Ravage's side, so the Communications Officer glares at the Seeker, flexible outer layer peeling back to flash his sharp denta at the Flier in annoyance. "What?"

"Ravage: Observing. Skywarp: Impatient."

"Yeah, yeah. Blame it on me."

"Let's go. It'll be better than just standing around." Megatron orders, already moving with heavy but silent steps, and Soundwave easily follows—

A squeak makes him turn to see Frenzy, his color scheme now an almost black brown with reddish tones, spread on his belly after he tripped.

"Mech, I _hate_ these new alt modes." He grumbles, Rumble laughing as he wobbly steps forward, but easily ends like his twin as a pede finds a tiny hole on the ground.

"Me too, bro. Me too."

"Suggestion: Quadruped movement."

For an instant, his creations just stare at him with wide optics.

And then, the grayish brown Cassette lifts himself off the dirt and, still with his weight on all four legs, starts to move forward, easily finding a rhythm that gets him to Soundwave's pedes far faster and with a fluid elegance that not even Ravage demonstrated.

"It works!" He squeaks, and Frenzy quickly mimics him.

"It's awesome!"

Flexible intake cover layer twitching into a smile, the Cassette Carrier observes his Flier twins follow more calmly, sharp-talons digging in the dirt in Laserbeak's case while Buzzsaw seems to have trouble managing his legs independently, hoping instead.

A quick look shows the rest of Decepticons far away, so Soundwave lowers himself to be lying on his stomach, while he gestures to his back with his helm.

"Aw, now that we learnt how to move…" Frenzy grumbles, but obediently climbs.

In the end, the Communications Officer has to use his elongated faceplate to push the Fliers up, since they can't climb correctly with just two legs and seemingly useless wings, though they help them balance a bit, before he stands up again and trots after the rest of Decepticons.

The Reflector Gestalt give him jealous looks as he calmly walks past them, his longer legs easily carrying him despite almost all his Cassettes on his back, and the Seekers are positively glaring, frames moving in rhythmic swaying as they take every step, talons scrapping against rocks with scratching noises as they grumble in discomfort.

But if their frames aren't meant for ground movement, and unless the Autobots' ship was positively malfunctioning, that means they're supposed to be able to fly. So why don't they have any kind of propulsion devices?

How are _organics_ meant to fly, anyway?

It doesn't take them long to get to the rock Ravage is perched on, tail swinging lazily, and the Cassette easily jumps down, landing in a crouch before joining the group—under Soundwave's frame.

A quick look is enough to let him know why, because his creation is carefully staying under the shadow his frame casts, optics half-shuttered in bliss at the change in temperature.

Not too long after that, Megatron's intake covers separate, and Soundwave catches short huff-like sounds as whatever organic equivalent of fans they have now are engaged to help the warlord cool his frame, and a quick look reveals the Reflector Gestalt and the Seekers in the same situation.

By the time they first sight the rock formation, they're all making those 'pant pant' sounds, air entering and exiting through their intakes in short bursts as they disperse the heat of the glaring sun overhead.

Fortunately, the angle of the rocks forming the walls of the circle means there are some of them positioned to cast long shadows, so they all plop down in the darkened areas as soon as they get to them, Skywarp even managing to somehow roll onto his back, scaled yellow legs with inverted knee joints and talon-ended dactyls curled onto his stomach as his wings spread wide at his sides.

Thundercracker, despite 'panting' as much as his Trinemate, is dignified enough to just lay down on his stomach, even if he keeps his bent wings separated from his body to allow the hot breeze the space to caress more of his frame.

Megatron lays on his side, stretching far more than his frame length seemed able to, before letting his helm fall heavily on the ground, intake cover still open to allow the cooling systems to keep working at maximum efficiency and optics shuttered.

"Why, Primus? Why cast us to such a planet?" Frenzy moans, falling from Soundwave's back as he tries to get to his back legs.

Fortunately for the Cassette, the Communications Officer is lying on his stomach, helm resting between his front legs, so he only manages to hurt himself enough to give a soft grunt.

"And it _had_ to have natives, of _course_ it had to." Rumble grumbles, sliding down to join his twin, spread on the ground. "And why the Pit aren't the natives heat resistant?"

"There may be some. The rest are just functional enough to hide in the cooler areas and shadows until the star's heat diminishes as the planet rotates, or before it increases enough to become unbearable." Starscream answers, lying on his stomach like Thundercracker, though with his helm twisted to rest on his back, optics shuttered. "We were just unlucky enough to either get alt modes not resistant enough, completely not isolated against heat, and got to exit when the heat was nearing its maximum degree."

"Great." Skywarp groans, and Soundwave feels his Fliers jump or fall off of his back, so he turns onto his side to stretch his legs with a tired whine sound.

He feels some tickling on his stomach, but peeling one optic shutter open and tilting his helm allows him to see Ratbat using his clawed servos and pedes to climb onto his side, lying on the short bluish-red filaments covering most of the Cassette Carrier's body as he shutters his optics and relaxes into recharge.

"Booooss…" Frenzy whines, crawling until his helm is pressed against Soundwave's stomach. "I wanna refuel…"

"Me too…" Rumble adds, moving tiredly to plop next to his twin, his short ex-vents easily felt despite the filaments covering the Communications Officer's plating.

"Did someone say fuel?" The black Seeker asks tiredly, one optic shutter peeling back halfway as a pede twitches. "'Cause I want some too… all that teleporting really strained my reserves."

"The Autobot ray may have repaired and reformatted us, but the energy boost it gave us was almost negligible." Thundercracker grumbles in agreement, scutes fluffing out as he shakes himself. "Anyone thought about grabbing some Energon from the ship?"

Groans all around, and Soundwave knows he's not the only one that didn't think about that.

They had been so confused about their frames and distracted by the knowledge that the ship couldn't be repaired but that there were energy sources on the planet, and the Autobots wouldn't trouble them ever again as they lay on damaged and stasis-locked piles all over the bridge…

Besides, they had been tricked by their reformatting, their systems on overdrive from all the changes that, with the knowledge none of them was suffering from dangerously low energy levels, their own diagnoses hadn't prioritized telling them just _how much_ energy they had in themselves.

"Does that mean we have to go back to the ship?" Skywarp whimpers, and when no one answers, he jerks a wing towards where Starscream is curled into a ball, seemingly in recharge. "Screameeeeeer…"

"Don't call me that." The Air Commander mumbles, but doesn't bother moving.

"But I'm low on energyyyyyy… do somethiiiiiiing…"

"How do organics refuel, anyway?" Spectro asks in a soft grumble, sprawled on his stomach with his legs extended forward and backwards, respectively, his Gestaltmates in the same positions at his sides.

"They ingest other organics." The Second in Command answers without doubt, earning himself some curious look from the Reflector mechs, as well as Soundwave and a still immobile Megatron.

And then, there's something nuzzling through Soundwave's stomach filaments, pressing against his plating almost searchingly.

Curious, the Cassette Carrier lifts his head, attracting the attention of those that have their optic shutters peeled back, as he tries to find out what is going on.

Rumble.

Optics shuttered, the grayish-brown mech keeps pushing against Soundwave's plating with his chemoreceptor unit, hiding half of his faceplate in the white filaments, and moving as he keeps… searching?

And then, he finds something.

Audial shells jerk forward in surprise at the strange weak electric charge-like feeling the contact produces, but the Cassette moves closer, servos pressing at the sides of the sensitive structure, as his intake covers open, revealing sharp denta—

Before the Communications Officer can do more than feel his optics widen, Rumble bites down.

Soundwave feels his whole frame lock, motor controls unresponsive, as the filaments on the back of his neck and between and over his shoulders lift.

The sensation is… strange, but known at the same time.

It's weird, because Rumble's glossa is licking, and his intake is making a rhythmic constricting motion that creates a suction pressure, but is familiar in that he can feel the small fuel lines connecting his systems and the nub-like structure fill with the refined Energon to get transferred to the mech at the other side of the connection, like his own systems do when in root mode and when his Cassettes are… in… his chest compartment…

Is that how organics refuel their creations? With nubs where Energon lines open and from which the newsparks intake it as if it came from a cube?

Whatever the reason, Soundwave finds his tail moving in short wagging motions as he feels warmth spread from his spark, as well as relief as he realizes he can care for his Cassettes even when his organic-looking alt mode has no compartment for them.

He feels the filaments smooth down, and he lowers his helm to nuzzle Frenzy, who is halfway into recharge, towards the refueling nub next to Rumble's.

The Cassette quickly latches onto it, sucking with the same voraciousness as his twin.

Optics wide, Ravage gives his carrier a pleading look before, with a nod, he's given permission to seek and claim his own nub, something the black and silver mech does with delighted purring, optics shuttering as soon as his denta clamp softly but firmly on it, servos pressing on Soundwave's plating in a comforting rhythm.

Ratbat, jostled by the feelings of comfort, happiness and the tingling only refueling produces through the bonds, exits his recharge long enough to see what his brothers are doing and, hanging easily from the Cassette Carrier's side, finds a nub over Rumble's, aligned with some more down the larger mech's other side of his stomach, and starts to intake Energon.

Tail still wagging, Soundwave turns to Laserbeak and Buzzsaw, who are observing with wide optics full of confusion.

A look around reveals the Reflector Gestalt staring at the Cassette Carrier with pleading and jealous optics, and a hungry look on Megatron's optics, though the warlord stays immobile, but the same lack of understanding, and even disbelief, on Thundercracker and Skywarp, Starscream's optics still shuttered as he stays in his curled position.

His Flier twins' alt modes resemble the Seekers', and none of them seem to have the same coding that pushed his other Cassettes to accept and use the refueling nubs. Does that mean they can't refuel from Soundwave?

Dread filling him, the Communications Officer turns to his creations once more, but they look as lost as before, giving him pleading looks that he doesn't know how to answer.

"Starscream, can we do that too?"

"Do what, Skywarp."

"Refuel from Soundwave."

"Of course you can ref—wait, _what_?" And, at last, the Air Commander uncurls, shaking himself and making his scutes fluff before he turns to the Third in Command—

And stops, optics widening a bit before he slowly stands up and takes a couple of steps closer to better watch the refueling Cassettes.

"Oh. I see."

"Starscream: Explain."

"The carrier variant of every model of organic is equipped with refueling equipment for the younger newsparks to use. Guess it was obvious you would end with such a variant as your alt mode." The Seeker tells him, before turning to look at where Skywarp is still sprawled on his back. "He doesn't have any kind of strange equipment on his stomach, does he?" He asks, and Thundercracker stretches his neck to look over his Trinemate's frame.

"Doesn't look like it."

"And you two have no coding about this method of refueling." The Air Commander muses out loud, turning to the Flier Cassette twins, who nod despite it not being a question. "Then it seems there are some frame types that refuel their newsparks by supplying them with raw energy itself."

"Query: Other organics."

"Yes. Or tiny enough parts of them, taking into account their small size."

"Query: Procurement."

"Hunting." The Seeker whispers, optic shutters lowering to give his optics a narrowed look, black dot doing nothing to make them look less unfocused as the Decepticon Second loses himself in his processor.

Laserbeak and Buzzsaw exchange looks of despair and longing before turning once more to the larger Flier.

And then, the reddish-brown Cassette takes a couple of steps closer, helm leaning back as he looks up at the Air Commander, intake covers falling open—and _chirps_.

A short, high-pitched keening sound, intake bared as if waiting for Energon to drop from the sky just into it.

Or be given by the dumbstruck Seeker staring down at Laserbeak as he repeats his call, intake covers opening and closing, and Buzzsaw rushes to join his twin in… _begging_ for fuel, much to Starscream's growing discomfort, judging by the ways his scutes rise and he takes a step back, away from the Cassettes.

And then, when he takes another step closer to his Trinemates, he finds the other two Seekers mimicking the smaller Fliers positions, hard intake covers open as they chirp up at their leader, Skywarp even managing to rock himself back to his pedes to do so, though he keeps low to the ground.

"What-What the Pit are you _doing_?!" Starscream squeaks, completely unnerved, as he step away from them, the black Seeker following while the other huffs in defeat.

"I need _fuel_, Screamer… _Pleeeease_..."

"And what makes you think I have any, you glitch!"

Laserbeak chirps again, and the Air Commander flinches visibly at the sound, helm moving in short but quick movements to look between the Cassettes and his Trinemates, while Megatron purrs in amusement.

When Soundwave's creations chirp once more, this time in unison, the Seeker lets out an annoyed burst of air, scutes lowering to rest on his frame once more.

"Fine, you slaggers. You _owe_ me for this, you hear me?" He growls, and the Fliers visibly perk up.

"You have _Energon_?" The Decepticon leader snarls, straightening in his lying position, faceplate twisting menacingly.

"Of course I don't." Starscream answers grumpily, stepping away from the group. "But I know how to get it." And, as he walks under the scorching sun once more, he opens his wings and with a short jump, flaps them.

And stays airborne.

"What the…"

A couple more flaps and, keeping his wings open and legs pressed under his body to the point they're only visibly because of the flash of yellow against the pale coloring of the tail, the Seeker lets the wing carry him up and away, tail plates twitching just before he tilts in midair and disappears behind the rock circle.

Silence.

"He can _fly_?! Why the Pit didn't he _teach_ us?!" Skywarp explodes, turning to his dumbstruck Trinemate. "How did he do that? Does he have propulsion engines we don't? Was that his anti-gravs? But the gravity here—"

"I think that was mechanical propulsion." Thundercracker interrupts, optics shutters closing and opening in a mimicry of optic rebooting. "Pure strength."

"But how did he manage to _stay_ in the air? It's impossible!"

"Well, he _did_."

"We could have _flown_ here instead of _walking_…"

"Only if you had managed to take to the air with the same ease he did in his _first try_. Primus…"

"Watch and learn." Skywarp grumbles before stomping as best as his alt mode allows to where his Trineleader took off, wings opening and flapping—

And slamming into the ground hard enough to make the Flier cry in pain and try to jump away, tripping over his own wings and ending in a dust-covered heap of risen black scutes and tangled limbs.

"Alright. I can't do it. Frag it."

Thundercracker's laughter takes a long time to go silent after that, not even the kick he receives from the other Flier on a wing making him mute it.

The air is definitely cooler, and the shadow they're resting in has elongated quite a bit as the planet keeps rotating, when they see a weird shape approach the circle of rocks, but the flapping wings are unmistakable.

Cassettes still attached to their refueling nubs, but no longer taking Energon as they've since long gone into recharge, Soundwave lifts his head with his audial shells prickled forward, observing the strange Flier until it gets close enough to be identified as Starscream carrying some kind of unmoving sandy creatures in his talons.

By the time he lowers himself back into the circle, all Decepticons are up and attentive, watching him drop his cargo before, with a couple of flaps to completely stop himself, he lands effortlessly.

His intake covers are open, chest expanding and contracting rapidly as he intakes and ex-vents air to cool himself, red optics half-shuttered.

"There. I hope you _choke_ on it." He grumbles tiredly, barely taking a couple steps away before just lying down on his stomach and resting his helm on his back.

The other two Seekers rush forward, studying the deactivated organics and the rusted liquid coating the filaments surrounding puncture damage, before turning to their Trineleader.

"Screamer? How are we supposed to refuel from these?"

"Oh, _Primus_!" The smaller Flier snarls, and, after a moment, he gets back to his pedes a bit wobbly and approaches them. "Like _this_."

And he steps onto one of the organics and, without hesitation, digs his sharp upper intake cover into the soft plating of the creature, easily ripping a piece of it as he pulls his helm back to have it dangling from between his now rust-stained intake covers.

The Decepticons step away with startled cries, receiving a deadpanned look before the Air Commander throws his helm back with a short jerk, intake covers open, and the piece of organic trapped in them slips down his intake.

"What the Pit are you _doing_?!" Thundercracker shrieks, shaking harshly with his scutes fluffed out. "It's _rusted_!"

"Quit the dramatics, that's just the iron of its transport liquid reacting with the oxygen in the atmosphere. There are higher levels here, which is why it looks like that. It's good fuel for the nanites." The Second in Command scoffs, lowering his helm to repeat the procedure of ripping another piece off the frame to ingest it. "Besides, it's highly energetic for an organic."

Dumbstruck, no one moves as they watch the rusted liquid be cleaned away from the intake covers by a couple of passes from the glossa.

And then, Soundwave's low energy levels, which have dropped remarkably as he refueled his creations, make him step forward.

Starscream just gives him a curious look before handling him the piece of organic he has just ripped off.

It dangles from between the intake covers like a bunch of wires, a drop of rusted liquid accumulating at the bottom.

And the smell of it activates coding of his alt mode that tells him it is _good_, it's _right_ and he has to _ingest it_.

So, carefully, he clasps it between his denta and, with a swipe from his glossa, finds it slipping down his intake.

A blissful whine escapes from somewhere deep in his chest, and next he knows, he's pushing the Seeker off the organic to sink his denta in it and rip a much bigger piece off, intake covers opening and closing with enough strength and a slight circular motion for his sharp denta to break it into smaller parts that are more easily ingested than the bigger one.

Not a couple of nanokliks later, he finds himself sharing his organic with the Reflector Gestalt, and can see Megatron and the other two Seekers making short work of the second one.

"Get me one of its legs." Starscream tells him, and he growls at the Flier, audial shells swirling back and lowering close to his helm—

And then he spots his two Cassettes at his pedes, looking at the organic hungrily, and almost feels like shooting himself.

So, redirecting his growl to Spectro, he pushes the other Decepticon away with a servo while he grabs the requested leg and separates it from the frame with a couple tugs, putting it on the ground next to his creations so that they can peel parts of the softer armor and linkages to ingest them with the same jerky motions of the helm that the Seeker performed before.

When they are done with the organics, only some filaments of their outer armor and stains of rusted liquid remain, even the stronger struts having been broken and ingested by Soundwave, the Reflector Gestalt and Megatron's powerful denta.

As the planet's sun disappears from the darkening sky, stars and the native moon brightening in its absence, the Decepticons curl under an overhang of one of the rocks conforming the circle, too small to be called a cave.

And if they press against each other to share their system's warmth in the dropping temperatures, none of them protests.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> Well, slag. The 'scene' turned into a decent-sized chapter. Who could've guessed it? 'Cause I certainly didn't.

Alright, to clarify, I see 'Reflector' as a Gestalt, and, in this 'verse, they're badgers. Spectro is a Japanese Badger, Viewfinder is an European Badger and Spyglass is an Amur/Asian Badger. And yes, they can still combine, though obviously not into a camera. The rest of the Decepticons' beast modes were identified in part 2, minus Ratbat, who is a Common Vampire Bat.

And before anyone asks, remember what Starscream did before the war? _That_ is how he knows so much about organics that _happen to look like_ those in the planet they're on. Funny thing, life, isn't it?

Yes, Soundwave is female. No, that doesn't mean Cybertronian, as seen in this or any other of my fics, have genders. He'll still be referred to as a male, it just happens that his alt mode is that of the 'carrier variant' of the Ethiopian Wolf species.

I had quite a bit of fun with the Cybertronian view of an organic's body parts, but I know some may seem confusing, so let me know if you have some doubts or if something is a bit too obscure, and I'll answer and try to clear it as best as I can.

Now that I've got this out of the way, let's see if I can get to finish the _More than Meets the Eye_ chapters. Requests, missing scenes, different POVs, and all that, are still welcome, 'cause, as of now, I have no idea how to continue with those.


	18. About Time Paradox

Alright, first of all, this is **NOT** a chapter, it's a note (obviously, sorry about this).

What for?

'Cause I'm moving _Time Paradox_ to its own fic, same title and summary, because the plot has finally straightened and I can write a real fic instead of just tiny scenes.

That has been thanks to all of you, reviewers and readers, who have helped give me ideas and encouraged me.

_Time Paradox_, nor any other of my stories, both here and in their own fics, couldn't have gone (and keep going) as far as they've done without you.

So, thanks a lot, all of you, and I hope I can read from you again in _Time Paradox_.


	19. Walking Backwards

**Story:** Walking Backwards

**Chapter title:** No Longer Home

**Continuity:** _Transformers: Prime_ Shattered Glass Crossover_  
><em>

**Summary:** Bizarre dreams are something only humans suffer. Cybertronian deal with corrupted recharge fluxes, in which memories are warped into strange scenes or utter monstrosities where nothing is recognizable anymore. Cliffjumper hated such fluxes, but after waking up in a twisted world filled with those he thought he knew, he'd rather be dealing with one.

**Author Note:** To those that know what my _Mirror Mirror_ universe is, this is the other side of things, kinda. To those that don't, this is a Prime 'verse Shattered Glass universe where a mech from cannon has fallen in.

* * *

><p>His processor is going to deactivate him.<p>

Or so it seems, so badly it's hurting him.

However, he's a fighter, so, pain be damned, he forces his optics online.

The base is eerily dark. Are the lights out?

And then, he remembers he was captured.

With a groan, he tugs his wrists and, expectedly, finds resistance.

That's right, he got hurt in the fight, and then that slag-heap—

"Ah, so you're active again. At _last_."

"Ratchet?" He asks, startled, as the lighting increases just a bit and he turns his helm.

And Cliffjumper feels as if his designation has become literal.

Because these walls, that door, the machinery, they're the _Ark_'s.

But the _Ark_ was destroyed, Optimus told them so when he and Arcee got to Earth.

And it was orange, not deep blue.

Though maybe that's a problem with his optics, because Ratchet is white and orange, but the mech approaching him is white and pale neon green, with red optics.

And he looks bored.

"Prime wants you to report, so out with you." The Medic drones, making his restraints disappear with the click of a button.

"Uh, sure. Thanks Doc."

"Whatever."

… Maybe it isn't a problem with his optics after all.

"Hey, what happened? Where's the snarking?" He asks, smiling his irritating grin as he pokes the older mech—

And gets a laser scalpel against his neck's main Energon line.

Ratchet keeps staring with boredom at the screen.

"I'm not in the mood for your humor, Cliffjumper. Out."

Well, that discards the out of body experience, since he's been referred by his designation.

"Sure, sure. Later, Doc."

And as he walks out, his smile turns to a confused and worried frown.

Ratchet hasn't berated him for the nickname.

He can't think more about it, though, because Arcee is outside.

Dark pink, a sultry smile that would've made the red mech rev his engine, and two piercing crimson optics with a ring of pale blue staring straight at him with an intensity that locks his motor controls.

"Cliffjumper." The Two Wheeler purrs, _sauntering_ to drape herself over his front. "You had me worried, partner."

"What for?" He answers after a blink, smirking, as he lifts a servo to rest it on the femme's pelvic armor—

Sharp dactyls pierce easily his wrist cabling, their small size allowing them to slip through the armor, and the Autobot winces and instinctively tugs his servo back, but Arcee's hold stays firm.

"You're my partner. I have to take care of you." The Two Wheeler whispers with the same sultry tone of voice, leaning closer to his faceplate, as if she wasn't severing his linkages that very moment. "Having you get hurt has me really, _really_ worried."

"Well, no need to worry now. I'm all better." He answers with a smirk, trying to hide his growing uneasiness and his pained grimace, and the femme _smiles_. "I have to report to Prime." He hurries to add, unwilling to know just _what_ is hidden under that seemingly saintly expression.

Arcee releases him and steps away, but gestures for him to follow—by curling a red Energon-stained dactyl over her shoulder.

"Then, we'd better take care of that." She tells him calmly, and, for an instant, he almost believes her to be the Arcee he knows.

Almost.

Not sure if answering verbally is the best idea, he just nods and follows, close but a healthy distance away from the smaller Cybertronian.

Just _what_ is this place?

An uncaring Ratchet, a psychotic Arcee, a dark blue _Ark_… And all the messed up color schemes and, most important of all, the _red optics_.

Oh, and there are indigo Vehicon drones walking the corridors, all bowing their helms as they step by their side, and the femme doesn't react.

"So, what happened?" He finally asks, unable to keep quiet as he tries to remember anything after his 'conversation' with Starscream.

"You don't remember?" Arcee sounds calm, peeking at him over her shoulder plate calculatingly, but alarms blare again in his processor.

"Things are just a bit scrambled, they'll sort themselves with some time, but I need to put them together to give Prime the report." He tells her with a smirk that she returns.

"Of course. You were injured by the last Decepticon attack on one of our mines. Nothing special, but they managed to crash the mountain on you."

"Ah, yes… that."

He can't remember it.

In fact, he _shouldn't_ remember it, which is good, because the Autobots _don't_ have mines. They've undergone some mining operations, sure, but they have none actually ongoing. The one he found when he was captured, and that ended being blown sky-high, was supposed to be their next one.

And it was an open Energon deposit. There was no mountain to collapse on anyone.

The swishing of doors opening catches his attention, and he finds that they've finally arrived at the bridge.

A big room with the level they're on raised above rows of working Vehicons, more consoles lining the walls and there, at the very end of the gangway to the command console, calmly looking over various files, is a very recognizable large mech.

Though with purple and black where there should be red and blue.

A hint of movement catches his attention, and he risks a glance to one of the secondary screens on the walls, but it's the being in front of it that makes him blink in surprise, not the map it shows.

Bumblebee, mostly black with yellow detailing instead of the inverse, and without his facemask on.

Which just makes his worried look, his emotions usually crystal clear in those big whirring optics of his, be even more visible, the red lenses instead of blue not messing the message.

What _the Pit_ is this place?

A soft tap against his forearm plate makes him turn to Arcee, who raises an eyebrow plate as she tilts her heard towards where their leader is still calmly working.

Right, he's supposed to report.

Unnerved and reluctant, he nevertheless takes some steps closer, feeling his fellow Autobots' optics on him.

"Uh, Optimus Prime, Sir?" He calls out, more of a question than anything, and the larger mech stops what he's doing and turns around.

"Cliffjumper. How are you feeling?" He asks, approaching, one of his rare smiles on his faceplate, red optics looking him over before finding the Energon dripping down his wrist.

Any semblance of calm and peacefulness vanishes, burning hot ire filling Optimus' glowing optics as a hateful snarl distorts his expression, and the smaller mech takes a step back instinctively, scared out of his processor.

"Get me Ratchet!" The Prime thunders, the Vehicons not seeming to notice but Bumblebee quickly turning back to his console to tapper on the controls almost madly. "He needs to be taught not to defy my orders." He adds in a threatening rumble, and the red mech shivers—

Before realizing the words.

"He didn't do this." He quickly interjects, lifting his damaged wrist to point it with the other servo.

"Cancel that order." Bumblebee freezes at the words, but the semi truck puts back up his calm façade. "What happened?" He asks, softly, encouragingly, and Cliffjumper hesitates for an instant.

"Nothing." He finally lets out, giving one of his sheepish grins. "Just me being an idiot."

"Ah, I see."

And, with a whirr of parts and a shot, the red mech slams into the ground with a pained yelp, skidding some mechanometers from the impact on his chest plates that has thrown him there.

"What in the—"

The sound of loud pede steps and the whining of a charged shot cut him short, and he hurries to lift his upper body on his elbow joints to see what's approaching.

Optimus Prime, weapons ready and calm face still on.

"You should be more careful, Cliffjumper. We don't need mechs damaged by their own idiocy when we have more than enough with the Decepticons, do we?" The Autobot leader asks, stopping in front of him and pointing the charged barrel to his helm.

"No, Sir." He hurries to reassure, not moving a micron, optics wide in fear and confusion.

The charge dissipates and the gun changes back to an extended servo, an offer to help the smaller mech to his pedes.

Not sure what is the right choice anymore, he accepts it, and finds himself tugged up until he's properly standing.

But his servo isn't released.

Instead, he's pulled closer, the purple and black mech bending so that they're staring optic to optic.

"If you fail me again, Cliffjumper, I'll have you disassembled and reprogrammed into a Drone. Understood?"

"Yes, Sir." He whispers back, more than unnerved at the same tone of voice that used to encourage and guide him now spelling such a grisly future.

"Good."

And, finally, his servo is released and the Prime goes back to his station, once more busying himself with whatever he's doing.

Unsure if that means he's been dismissed or not, Cliffjumper stays still, processor reeling and chest plating stinging.

Finally, after what feels like an eternity, the larger mech looks over his shoulder plate with a proud smile and a tiny nod.

"You're dismissed. Get Ratchet to see to your damage."

Not taking longer than needed to salute and properly walk outside, the red mech almost bursts out running as soon as the bridge doors close at his back.

He would have, but he has no idea where his quarters are supposed to be.

And Arcee is with him.

"Come on, partner. Let's get the good doctor to look over you, alright?" She purrs, twirling an arm around his own and tugging him along to the Repair Bay.

"Actually, I was thinking I'd rather go back to my quarters. I'm a bit tired from all the excitement." He replies, smiling a bit, and, surprisingly, the femme nods in agreement.

"You would. Let me accompany you there."

Arms still twined, they start to walk, the red mech carefully looking around and trying not to pay attention to the smaller frame almost hanging off his own, so tightly is she gripping him.

He forces himself to memorize the corridors, to ignore the Vehicons walking by, and, soon enough, Arcee stops in front of an unremarkable door.

"Here we are. Take care of these, we don't want you hurt." She whispers, sliding a dactyl almost sensually over the blackened plating on his front. "Comm me if you need anything. I'm in the next room." She adds, gesturing to the mentioned door, before disentangling almost regretfully.

"Will do. Thanks, partner." He answers, pressing the pad to open his door and finding he needs a password.

"Anytime, partner." She replies, reaching to caress a servo over his plating once more, and he takes a leap of faith and inputs the same code he used on the safe of his old tiny apartment, back when Iacon was still standing.

He's rewarded by the door opening, and, rude or not, he hastily steps inside with his smile still on place and a wave of his servo.

The door closes, automatically locking a grinning Arcee outside, and he almost falls down in relief.

The room is almost bare, the berth slightly below average quality, even for a warship, but, as far as he can see with his thorough search, there are no spying devices.

Emotionally exhausted and more than a bit sore, the red mech sits down on his desk chair, resting the small first aid kit he's found on the table, and looks himself over.

His color scheme is a darker red, with his silver detailing paler, and he suspects his faceplate is too.

Cliffjumper freezes.

Faceplate.

Optics.

There's no mirror or proper reflective surface in the room, but he needs none.

Feeling his spark constrict, he lifts a servo to hover in front of his faceplate—

And sees red light bathe it.

Red optics.

"Primus…" He whispers, his arm falling as he leans back in his seat, his strength being drained faster than the Energon is dripping to the floor. "Cliffjumper, I've a feeling we're not in Nevada anymore."

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> I've been having trouble with the next part of _Mirror Mirror_, so I tried something different but on the same/similar 'verse. And so, here you have it. I may fuse this back with _Mirror Mirror_ sometime in the future, but, for now, it stands alone.

Anyone recognizes the quote at the end? (Hint, it begins with _The Wizard of_, and ends with _Oz_.)


	20. Code of Ghost V

**Story:** Code of Ghost

**Chapter title:** Victory

**Continuity:** _Beast Wars_. This chapter shows the event of _The Agenda: Part 1_

**Summary:** Once, a human writer said: 'Nothing can we call our own but death and that small model of the barren earth which serves as paste and cover to our bones.' And yet, when the time comes, there is neither for those who no longer live. So, what is a ghost to do?

**Synopsis:** As the time to return to Cybertron grows near, an unexpected arrival unearthes not only a future for the living, but also a past for the dead.

* * *

><p>"<em>Booooring<em>."

"Mute it."

"Mute it? _Mute_ it?! This is all your fault!"

"_My_ fault? You didn't have to stay!"

"If _I_ go, _you_ come with me."

Silence.

"Are you saying you staid because _I_ wanted to stay?"

"Oh, don't think yourself so important. I just wanted to see what was so interesting, how was I supposed to know they would cancel patrols?"

Dinobot doesn't answer, conceding Starscream that semblance of victory.

It's been days since the Predacon managed to get on the _Axalon_, sure that the Maximals' time on Earth was coming to an end, and unwilling to stay secluded—more like roaming the area almost aimlessly as he tries to learn how to interact with the world—when the chances of Megatron attacking are growing with each nanoklik.

And, as always, the Decepticon came along, even though he can—and has done so before—drag Dinobot wherever he wants to.

It was a weird and extremely uncomfortable sensation, to feel himself _tugged_ somewhere by his very _spark_.

Starscream explained, once the warrior stopped shouting at him, that he wasn't really pulling him around by his spark, but by its very center, its laser core, because, as ghosts, they are only spark.

That didn't reassure Dinobot any, but at least he now knows that if the older mech didn't want to be in the _Axalon_, he could've easily left the Predacon to truly die or tugged him along when he left.

But he didn't.

And now, as the masses of energy that they are, they find themselves confined by Sentinel itself, its field able to affect them with consequences the Flier hasn't deigned to explain, but that he insists 'wouldn't be nice'.

Dinobot knows better than to distrust the Decepticon on certain things, and their continued survival—if their existence can be considered any semblance of living—is one of them.

So, taking into account the Predacon knows Starscream _knew_ the Maximals would lock themselves in the closest they got to their imminent departure, and still he allowed themselves to be trapped alongside them just for Dinobot's sake of being with his former comrades—not friends, friends is something a Predacon doesn't have, not even if he feels the title is more than merited—, the warrior is willing to let him have the last word.

The Flier—Seeker, actually, because that is something really important for the Decepticon, even if a Grounder like Dinobot can't really appreciate what that fully means—is a walking—floating, flying, whatever—processor-ache.

As the humans would say, a mystery wrapped in an enigma.

Starscream is egoistic, cowardly, self-centered and as haughty as a Maximal noble, and, most times, the insults they share are meant to hurt.

But then there are these other situations in which the Decepticon goes through something he dislikes just because Dinobot wants to, like that first day as a ghost, spent around his grieving comrades, or these last ones, forced to stay in the _Axalon_, and even those times the Flier spent doing nothing so that the Predacon could use more energy than usual to hunt—prey animals can't feel him, but they notice the magnetic field created by the extra energy, and thus react with the unease of stalked animals in his presence.

He's… strange. With really quick mood swings, murderous one instant and laughing happily the next.

A complete and insensitive aft that lets him stay with the Maximals and act as if alive, even if it bores or annoys him.

So, Dinobot gives him some leeway. He may be around because of some weird curiosity that is _still_ unexplained, but, at least, it isn't a real Pit, no matter the arguments or weirdness.

He has the feeling his attitude has been exacerbated by all the years of being a ghost.

He leans against thin air as if it was the most normal thing ever, when it takes Dinobot a deep concentration to do so, and knows what he can go through and what he cannot by spark, so that he doesn't hesitate half a nanoklik when he walks—or floats around, though he's been walking more since the Predacon first became a ghost—even if the younger mech still finds himself waiting for a door to open at times.

Sometimes, he wonders if it isn't just because he felt alone that Starscream 'caught' him, instead of whatever reason he has convinced himself of.

One day, he'll ask about it. But not now. The Seeker is in a foul enough mood as of—

Metal clangs loudly, and the Predacon whirls around in surprise.

Silverbolt has Rattrap pinned to the ground, one talon on the smaller Maximal's head.

"What the—"

"Hey!" Rhinox exclaims, turning around almost at the same time.

"What's going on here?" Primal questions, walking to the two mechs, and the Predacon turns to the Decepticon in confusion, but Starscream's shrug tells him he hasn't seen whatever happened either.

"How should I know? This hotheaded hound just went postal on me!" Rattrap exclaims from under the Flier's pede, and, after moment, Silverbolt relaxes and steps off of him.

"My… apologies. I… overreacted." He answers, bowing his helm and lifting a servo as if to hide himself in shame.

"Believe me, I know Rattrap can have that effect. But now is not the time. Back to your posts." Optimus orders calmly, voice low to sooth his crewmech's high-strung wires.

"Oh, please. Doesn't he know you can't take the Vermin's words seriously? You must answer in kind." Dinobot scoffs, crossing his arms against his chest plate.

"That means he treaded a sensitive topic. Either because it's too much against the Fuzor's beliefs… or because he's right." The Decepticon whispers with a sharp smirk, and the Predacon glares at him before turning to his comrades.

That… is actually an accurate assessment.

Plus, who would know better than someone that uses such strategies as weapon?

"It may be nothing. They're all tense." He points out, as they listen to Optimus' warnings.

"Playing Unicron's Acolyte? Not like you."

"Unicron's _what_?!"

Starscream startles, but his surprise is immediately replaced by annoyance.

"Devil's advocate. Slagging human idi—"

The _Axalon_ shakes and her lights flicker at an explosion, and Dinobot finds himself wobbling out of some kind of instinct.

The Decepticon snarls and tugs him upright, even as the Maximals fall to the ground with startled cries.

"Like I said. Sudden." Optimus lets out as he gets off Cheetor, and the Seeker groans.

"I don't know if I should applaud him or knock him out."

"You're a lot like him in that regard."

"Applaud him it is."

The Maximals recover quickly, but their efforts to defend themselves are for naught as the auto-guns are destroyed, and Dinobot can feel himself tensing.

"We have to do something."

"Sentinel is still online."

"We have to do something!"

"You can't!"

"But you can!" And the Seeker turns serious as the Predacon looks at him, snarling. "You can do something, can't you?"

"Why should I?"

"But—"

The ship starts shaking again, their enemies' attention on them once more now that the defenses are offline, and the fear and tension skyrocket.

"Starscream!"

"This isn't my battle."

"How can you say _that_?!" He shrieks, desperation and disbelief in his voice as he sees his friends shaken around like leaves in a storm. "You're here! You're involved!"

The Seeker turns around—

And the alarms shut down.

"What the heck just happened?" Rattrap asks, turning to see Primal straightening out of the broken lift door.

"We had… help."

Dinobot turns, but Starscream is tense, alert, and that not only tells him it hasn't been his doing, but that things are _not good_.

He's a ghost, after all, so what need has he for caution?

"No way. I was scanning across the board. There was nothing, _nada_, out there!"

"Well, what would you call this?" Cheetor asks, and both ghosts join him and the rodent in watching out the window, just in time to see a bird-shaped ship shimmer into existence as it lands.

"No slagging way…" The Decepticon whispers, optics pale and tension increasing, as he moves away.

"Old Relic? Do you recognize that ship?"

"I—No, but… that _invisibility trick_…"

"Lower the shields." Optimus orders, and all mechs, active and deactivated, whirl around in surprise.

"What? Oh, please, tell me that no-brain of yours is still under warranty. _That_ ain't no Maximal ship." Rattrap points out, gesturing to the vessel out the window, and the Predacon observes it again before grimacing, agreeing silently.

"What do you think, Featherless Chicken?"

"I don't know."

"What?!" He shouts, turning around in surprise—and stepping back when Optimus moves forward, grimacing a nanoklik later when he realizes the Maximal would have just stepped through him.

"Lower the shields." Primal repeats, and Rhinox finally obeys.

And then, nothing.

"Strange. One would think a greeting would be the next step." Silverbolt mutters, the Rhinoceros trying all hailing frequencies—and the ceiling hatch opens without an order.

"Anything you know, Old Relic, now would be a good time!"

"Hacked, no sign of whoever did it… Spec Ops. _Mirage_."

"Who?"

"An Autobot spy with an invisibility cloak, but… I though he got deactivated at the Battle of Autobot City!"

"But… if he's an Autobot, why would he hide from the Maximals? And why would he come with a Predacon ship?"

"How am I supposed to know?!"

The active mechs stop talking and take out their weapons.

"You're the one with the immortal spark!"

"I can't be everywhere at once!"

A laser pointer lands on Dinobot's chest plates from the ceiling hatch—and goes through him to roam over Rattrap's frame, while another moves over the floor.

"What is it, Big Bot?" Cheetor asks softly, and the Predacon chances a glance at the Transmetal Gorilla, but stays tense, feeling naked without his sword in his servos.

If he's supposed to be an image of his last frame that his spark projects to better deal with his deactivation, why can't it project him some weapons too? Starscream has his shoulder-mounted cannons!

"Not what, who." Primal answers, and Dinobot _does_ turn fully to him then, and sees the Seeker do the same from the corner of his optic. "After the Great War, a few Decepticons were granted amnesty."

"A few _what_?" The Flier whispers, dread filling his voice, as the laser pointers move over the Maximals.

"Most have retired, but rumor has it that one was reprogrammed and rebuilt. As a _Predacon_."

Starscream starts to shake, helm moving from side to side in denial as he takes a step away, looking horrified.

Dinobot feels sick.

A few precise shots, and all Maximals are unarmed.

And then, their invisible attacker jumps down, shimmering back in sight before he touches the ground, all polished silver and black.

Starscream locks down.

"_Ravage_."

Dinobot tenses, ready for anything—

But the newcomer just puts his guns away.

"You will pardon my shooting the weapons from your hands, I only wish to avoid any regrettable… _accidents_ to my person." The feline-like so-called Decepticon explains calmly, rumbling deep voice resembling purring, and the Predacon chances a quick look to the ghost Flier.

Starscream is stock-still, looking even more horrified than he did before, and the Raptor starts to shake in helplessness.

Whoever this Ravage is, he must be a dangerous and terrifying opponent, ruthless and fierce, for not many things can scare the Seeker like he does.

"Yeah? Well, next time try the front door." Rattrap almost _snarls_, and Dinobot doesn't know if he should slap the Rodent for his blindness or order him to run as far and fast as he's able.

"Rattrap. Please." Optimus cuts him, a raised servo stopping him from anything else, and the Predacon almost lets out a sigh of relief—

"_Please_?! Oh, for booting up cold! The only thing worse than a stinking Pred is a stinking _Decepticon_." And this time the spy _is_ snarling.

But even as Primal pushes him back and orders him to shut up, Dinobot finds himself… hurt.

Yes, Rattrap trusted him at first as much as the Predacon did the Maximals, but they worked up from there.

And yes, the last time they had a real conversation, the Rodent made his opinion on Dinobot getting the Golden Disk back to Megatron well known.

But they cleared that too.

_"Like I said… you're just a blasted slag-spouting saurian but… it's nice to know where you stand."_

He shouldn't, not after hearing what the spy said in the Predacon's quarters after his demise, but it still hurts.

It still hurts, that every single Predacon is to be treated like a criminal just because of Maximal propaganda.

"Covert Agent Ravage at your service." The newcomer finishes, and only then does Dinobot focus back on the conversation at hand.

Only to lose focus once more while the Maximals ask whether or not their Council received the signal too, because Starscream seems to have finally snapped out of his shock.

And is now shivering visibly, shaking his head with disbelief clear on his faceplate, still unable to look away from the black and silver mech.

"Old Relic?"

"What did they do…"

"What are you talking about? What should we be expecting from this enemy?"

"He's no enemy." And Dinobot whirls around in surprise, only to see the fear having turned to… despair. "He's _Ravage_."

"Starscream?"

"He was a spy, one of Soundwave's Cassettes… I… I was supposed to…" The Decepticon finally looks away, moving to the corridor as the Maximals and the newcomer start to talk about their course of action.

After a last look back, the Predacon follows the older ghost.

Who is trembling next to a window, helm in his servos and, to Dinobot's surprise, completely silent.

"Starscream?"

"I was supposed to be the leader." The Flier growls, and the Raptor startles at the murderous tone, finally recognizing the shaking for ire instead of fear. "_I_ was supposed to be the leader of the Decepticons, not Galvatron, not that stupid Tri-Predacus Council, and _not_ those accursed Maximals! _I_, Starscream, should have been the leader of the Decepticons! Ravage should have never been _rebuilt_ just to be a _Covert Agent_, he was supposed to be _my spy_!"

After a second, Dinobot recovers from his surprise, and feels his own anger surge, a snarl on his faceplate.

"So what? _You_ should be leader of the Predacons too?" He hisses, servos clenching into tight fists, unable to believe the… the _nerve_ of the Decepticon, claiming leadership over whole factions even after his own deactivation.

"The Predacons should've never existed!" The Seeker shrieks, whirling around, and Dinobot feels as if slapped, optics wide in disbelief.

"What?" He whispers, trembling as he feels some kind of… tickling on his spark.

Like the instant before he's shocked.

But the Decepticon calms down as he once more buries his faceplate in his servos, wings moving to his sides to hide himself.

"I was their leader…" He whispers, and, this time, the Predacon just turns around and goes back to the bridge.

When he gets there, however, he finds the Maximals straightening and nodding in acceptance at something he's missed, and, before he can ponder about it, they head for the lifts.

Excitement and worry pulsing in his spark, Dinobot lets himself fall through the floor, but not before calling the Decepticon's name.

As soon as Sentinel goes offline to allow the active mechs to pass, the Predacon rushes outside, finding the Seeker at his side before he can realize he got there, as serious and determined as if that… breakdown in the _Axalon_ never happened.

It's hard, but Dinobot manages to keep a sneer at bay.

_Greedy and power-hungry traitorous bastard._

Oh, he may say he's not, but it's more than clear that he's a few circuits short of a full motherboard, and he's not sure if such is because of how long he's been a ghost.

After all, can all history records be wrong?

_I think not._

Nevertheless, they board the bird-like ship along the rest, though stay floating over their heads when it becomes clear they will be cramped enough, even if that means the Predacon has to stay a couple of minutes hanging off Starscream's servos until he manages to convince his body that it isn't a real body, and thus that he can float.

The ride to Predacon territory is tense, the Maximals checking their weapons over and over, until Ravage activates the cloaking, and the vessel and all those in it turn invisible.

"Don't touch the walls, we don't want to scramble the invisibility field." The Seeker warns, and, even though Dinobot can't see the ship anymore, he can feel it somehow.

Only when they're over the _Darksyde_ does the vessel turn visible again, and, to the two ghosts' surprise, the floor the Maximals are on opens, letting them fall with startled cries—

"What have you done?!" The Predacon shrieks, glaring heatedly at the black and silver mech, before flying after his comrades.

And only then does he see their determined faces, how Rattrap grabs onto Rhinox so that the larger Maximal can ensure their safe landing, how Optimus and Silverbolt, who jumped—_jumped_—after Dinobot transform to fly around and destroy the automatic defenses, how Cheetor—

Crashes into the ground, his own beast mode and jets activating to slam him against a rock.

"You really could have used some flight lessons from the Old Relic." He grumbles as he lands next to the stunned Cheetah, increasing the energy running through his spark like he does to hunt, so that any auto-guns directed their way will focus on him instead of the younger Maximal, before looking up at the ship.

Starscream hasn't followed.

No, there he is, flying out of the wall like the ghost he is—

A snarl on his faceplate, raging white optics, a slashing motion of his servo as Rampage's missiles approach—

The premature explosion rocks the ship without damaging it seriously, but Dinobot screams in agony at the burning in his spark, falling to his knees and curling into himself.

And he knows why the Decepticon said to be careful around Sentinel, because they may be only sparks now, but that doesn't mean they can't be hurt by such discharges of energy.

Ravage turns the ship around, and a single shot is more than enough to turn the gigantic Predacon to a pile of spare parts, and Cheetor recovers while the Raptor is trying to get his frame to stop flickering, green optics focusing on Waspinator—

A shiver of energy under his servo, but by the time Dinobot can slash at the auto-gun to short-circuit it, it has already fired.

However, one quick look shows the Cheetah simply knocked out, though his chest plates will need a good scrubbing before they're yellow again.

"Are you alright?" Even if he didn't recognize the voice, the servo landing on his shoulder and the rush of energy strengthening him are more than enough.

"Yes. Although a repeat of whatever you did up there would be… unadvisable." He growls, turning to Starscream, who just smirks.

And then, the auto-guns go offline, the Predacon ship no longer firing at the _Darksyde_, but waiting on the ground.

Seeing Optimus, Rhinox and Rattrap hurry inside the crashed vessel, the two ghosts follow.

"In the name of the Pax Cybertronia and the Predacon Alliance, you are under arrest."

And the Maximals rejoice as Ravage keeps his guns trained on Megatron, tied to his control chair by energy bonds, and Dinobot doesn't know how to feel.

"Is it… over?" He whispers turning to the deactivated Decepticon questioningly.

"That's Ravage for you." The Seeker answers simply, a bittersweet smile on his faceplate and sadness and pride in his optics.

But as he watches Megatron be taken out of the _Darksyde_, bound, kicking and screaming, Dinobot can't help but feeling that things are not over yet.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong> At _last_! Slagging Starscream, didn't want to cooperate... Was too shocked by Ravage's arrival, apparently.

Well, there you go, first part of _The Agenda_. Still not much in terms of plot-hole filling, unless you want to take the ghosts' simple actions in the fighting, but we're getting there. Sloooooowly.


End file.
